A rare Alphahole
by fessst
Summary: Weed sale goes wrong and leaves Stiles with a dilemma of either facing prison or enrolling himself in Beta Rehabilitation Program for the next 6 months. Anything beats prison, right? Once he finds out that his assigned Responsible Alpha is the dick who landed him in trouble, to begin with, Stiles is not so sure anymore. Especially since he has to fucking marry the guy! (Sterek)
1. Beta Rehabilitation Program

_Author's note: This is M/M Slash, Alpha-Beta-Omega universe... -ish. I kinda make my own rules;D Also, no werewolves... I'd call it "werewolf adjacent" though._

_Rating will most likely go up, if (or when) I decide to write lemons._

_Also fair warning, there will be domestic discipline in the fic, so if it triggers you, this might not be a fic for you._

* * *

Stiles always knew he was destined for greatness. Unfortunately, his life seemed to be in disagreement.

It all started in puberty when it became obvious, that Stiles will, in fact, remain a "boring" Beta, while almost all of his friends shifted one way or the other.

You see, in the world ruled by powerful Alphas, who hankered after gorgeous Omegas, being a Beta was like being a sidekick in a popular TV show - you are kinda there but your presence is mostly so that the _main_ character can react to you. You may provide some comic relief or smart commentary, but ultimately, you are dispensable.

The life of a Beta wasn't a hardship, they weren't discriminated in any sense. Perhaps because there was simply nothing particular about them - like they weren't even _worth_ to discriminate against. All the drama always surrounded Alphas and Omegas and while the majority of Betas enjoyed their quiet life, there was a decent chunk of them who craved to be in the center of attention.

That was the reason why statistically most criminals were Betas. Not_ important_ criminals, of course, the underworld was ruled by Alphas, just like everything else. But in sheer numbers, Betas accounted for ⅔ of prisoners. And not just because Betas were the most numerous dynamic but because one could do stupid shit in order to stand out.

Stiles didn't do stupid shit per se, he just _helped himself_ selling weed here and there. No biggie. His dad would be horrified of course, but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. And Stiles intended to keep it that way.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to check the product for tonight's sale. Only 3 ounces left for tonight, in one of the most luxurious Las Vegas casinos, he should be done fairly quickly. With a bit of luck, he would find a few big players who went into those private poker rooms and would be happy to purchase the full load from him.

The elevator door opened and Stiles was hit with a subtle smell of masculine cologne. He eyed the guy with curiosity. The impressive physique, dominant presence, and dark brooding gaze clearly indicated an Alpha, though that Hollywood face would be envied by many Omegas out there. Black leather jacket, loosely styled hair and carefully maintained stubble gave him the bad boy vibe, which Stiles didn't even know he was into… till now.

Stiles didn't have a strict dynamic preference. Most of his teenage years were spent in pining after a quirky Omega Lydia Martin, who for the most part completely ignored his existence and then placed him in friendzone, which was a questionable upgrade when it came to love-life. While Omegas generally stimulated his instincts to care and protect, the dominant Alphas held a different kind of allure, they emitted power and authority, bringing out the strong sense of belonging.

And belonging to this "_Bad Boy Alpha chick-flick escapee"_ wouldn't be all that bad.

Despite Stiles's obvious interest, the stranger paid no attention to him, his eyes didn't even brush over him, like he wasn't even there. More people entered the elevator and the doors started closing just as the young lady was passing with a stroller. Everyone gave a panicked gasp when the door was about to crash the sleeping kid in the head, but at the last moment, the handsome Alpha stopped it with a quick reflex.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and the mother thanked him politely, which was an _appropriate_ reaction to the situation.

"Wow, dude, nice save. That reflex, that was something… "

And that potentially _could be_ an appropriate reaction as well... if Stiles didn't sound like an overly obsessed hormonal fangirl, who just met her lifelong crush. The "dude" cast him a disgruntled look and Stiles trailed off clearing his throat.

_Real smooth, Stiles..._

* * *

xxx

It's not that Stiles _meant_ to follow the Alpha around, the guy just happened to always be in his purview. Stiles thought that he wasn't being obvious about it, till the Alpha flat out addressed him, without even turning his head from the slot machine.

"What do you want?"

It took Stiles a moment to realize that the guy was, in fact, talking to him.

"Yes, you," the Alpha confirmed, turning to him with an annoyed look on his face.

"I…"

"You have been following me around for the past hour, so let me be clear - I'm not interested."

The dismissive tone and blunt rejection stung quite a bit, but Stiles put up a facade of nonchalance.

"Presumptuous much?" he scoffed, "I merely wanted to offer you some weed for sale." He subtly opened his jacket revealing perfect square packages hidden on the inner side.

The Alpha narrowed his eyes calling his bullshit, "Yes, you followed me around practically milking with precum just to sell me some pot."

_Asshole!_

Stiles rewarded _the dick_ with a fierce scowl, which left his target entirely unaffected.

"Listen, if you don't want to buy just say so, I'll take my business elsewhere."

The Alpha's lips twitched ever so slightly as if Stiles's pout amused him in some way. Did I say pout? No no, Stiles was most definitely NOT pouting.

"How much do you have?"

"How much do you need?" he countered the question with his own.

The guy lost the barely visible smirk and went back to the brooding irritation. He didn't say anything and Stiles lost his nerve within 3 seconds of _"Fix your attitude or I'm gonna fix it for you"_ glare he was given.

"Three ounces or so, I sell 10 a gram, 65 a quarter and…"

"I'll take all."

Stiles gaped at him, "All?"

"You have trouble hearing?"

No, Stiles didn't have trouble hearing. The guy already managed to gamble away around 500 bucks on slots, so he was obviously loaded, but still… that was a LOT of weed.

"What are you gonna do with it?" he couldn't help wondering.

"None of your business."

Asshole all the way. Fine, not like Stiles really cared.

"It will be 700."

"Yeah, I don't care, make it quick."

Stiles wondered what did he see in that douchebag, to begin with. His arrogance and condescension far outweighed his good looks. He fumbled with the packages, trying to be inconspicuous as he handed them over to the Alpha.

"Thanks," with that curt acknowledgment, without even looking at Stiles, the douchebag turned around ready to walk away.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Stiles snapped, grabbing his elbow.

The guy turned back, glaring at him and then at the hand gripping his jacket, the unspoken threat looming in the air.

"I'm taking my hand away," Stiles quickly retracted, his tone much more polite, "But you better pay up."

"No."

"What do you mean _'No'_"?

"You need me to spell it out for you? It's a fairly short word," the dick replied, the smirk making a reappearance.

Stiles really wanted to punch that smug motherf… in his face. But he was pretty sure he would not come off victorious from that encounter, so he tried one more time to ask nicely, "Dude, I'm not kidding, give me my money and I'll be on my way."

"Get lost, kid," the guy scoffed dismissively, "And stop dealing."

Stiles felt his temper boiling. What an absolute ass! He glanced in the direction of the security guys meaningfully and the Alpha laughed.

"Yeah right, gonna tell them your _drug sell_ went wrong?"

_Alright, that's it! _

Stiles grabbed him once more and yelled, "Police! Call the police!"

Alpha's eyes widened in shock that Stiles actually did it. He didn't attempt to run but he did jerk his hand strongly, shaking off Stiles's grip.

The call to arms generated the expected attention and the security guards immediately rushed towards them. "Is there a problem, Sir?" one of them asked Stiles, narrowing his eyes at the Alpha.

Stiles took out his fake badge flashing it at the men with confidence as if he did many times before. "Special agent Stilinski," he introduced himself, trying hard to keep his voice steady and professional. "The gentleman here is dealing pot." To support his claim, Stiles unabashedly unzipped the leather jacket to show where the douche hid the weed. It might not get him his money back, but it will give him the satisfaction of knowing the asshole didn't get away with it.

"What?! You are the one who sold it!" the dick retorted appalled.

"I have other work so I'll leave you to deal with him," Stiles addressed the guards, ignoring him. He turned around ready to make his escape, while everyone is still properly confused.

"Sir, I'd ask you to please accompany us."

Even though it was posed as a request the guard's stern voice left no doubt as to the fact that it wasn't one. Stiles gaped at him in surprise. "I…"

"Please follow me."

_Fuck._

* * *

xxx

Sitting in the temporary holding cell of the local police station Stiles contemplated that his plan was not all that smart after all. I mean, it did work many times before, saving his ass from getting caught… besides, who knew that this guard worked for police before and will call his bluff?

Stiles always carried a badge and a toy gun around as a safety measure. Selling weed was risky business, but flashing a gun or a badge was usually enough to dissuade potential muggers from jumping him.

Now it all backfired spectacularly. Not only the casino cameras proved that he was the one dealing, but he was also charged with impersonation of the law enforcement officer. All in all, he was in deep shit.

The _Alpha dickhead_ didn't look much happier, he was only charged with possession, but given he had some priors, he probably looked at the real jail time as well. Stiles didn't know the specifics, but the cop told them both to get comfortable, as they were not getting out anytime soon.

"You just had to be a douchebag, huh? You gambled away a shitton of money and couldn't pay me? Like seriously what kind of asshole are you?" Stiles fumed glaring at the guy sitting next to him, who didn't say a word the whole time or even looked in his direction. Stiles, on the other hand, wouldn't shut up. He had to blame someone… it helped him to ignore the fact, that it was his own stupidity that led him to risk THIS for mere 700 bucks.

"Moron."

"I may be a moron but you are one rare Alphahole!" Stiles retorted.

The guy still didn't look at him. Oddly enough he didn't appear to be all that concerned about his own predicament, it looked more like he was simply annoyed that he had to sit there with Stiles instead of gambling in the casino. Like this was just some stupid inconvenience for him.

"No seriously, you clearly have money, why would you…"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" the Alpha grumbled, massaging his temples tiredly. But it would take more than that to dissuade Stiles from his rant.

"All you had to do was say: 'no I don't want your weed'. And that would be it! I would leave you alone to your gambling. But no, you just had to…"

Stiles heard the smash before he even saw the guy move, the loud bang on the wall made by a fist narrowly missing his head, successfully silenced him.

"I'm only gonna say it once," the Alpha growled, his fangs elongating and his eyes flashing with red color, "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

For a second there Stiles forgot to breathe. Whether it was from the sudden scare, from those dark red eyes staring at him just inches from his face, or from the angry snarl in the Alpha's voice, Stiles didn't know. But the guy just became so much more interesting.

You see, Alphas were the closest descendants of the Wolfs. Their blood had the highest concentration of werewolf blood cells, which made them strong, naturally dominant with leadership qualities. Some Alphas had additional abilities that distinguished them from the rest, like better resistance to illness, faster healing, higher strength, speed or agility, etc. The purer the bloodline the better.

It was very rare for anyone except Alphas to have those special quirks. Omegas had their own 'powers'. As the most submissive dynamic, they were almost uniformly gifted with good looks and high appeal, to make up for it. The show business was almost all about Omegas, as they also tended to be the most creative of the three.

And Betas… well, I already talked about them.

Anyway, the thing that amazed Stiles so much, was that he had never seen an Alpha elongate his fangs or change the color of his eyes, that was only a thing of the movies - and there it was always done by the CGI. The dickhead must be coming from some old purist bloodline.

"Derek Hale?" the guard called approaching their cell, "You are out."

Hale... Why did it sound familiar? Stiles noticed that the guard was followed by a handsome man, an Alpha in his late 30s, whose dominant presence if not overshadowed, definitely matched the one of the Alphahole. The man looked at Stiles with a hint of curiosity, while his charge left the cell without giving him a second glance.

Well, Stiles didn't sit there alone for long, as he was soon called into the interrogation room (at least, that's what Stiles called it). There he was met by a friendly looking Asian woman in her late 40s, who asked him to sit down as soon as he entered. The lady was a clear Omega, not that Stiles contemplated escape, the two bulky Betas were still guarding the door after all. She smiled sweetly and offered him a glass of water.

"Mr. Stilinski, I'm sorry I don't think I will be able to pronounce your name…"

"It's Stiles."

"Stiles," she repeated, clasping her hands on the table, "My name is Noshiko Yukimura, I am here to offer you an alternative for your future."

"My future?" Stiles asked confused.

"The prison sentence. You are looking at 2 to 5 years jail time, sweety," she said, with a compassionate smile.

Stiles felt his mouth go dry and his stomach do a somersault at the grim prospect. Like sure, he knew he was in trouble, but he didn't expect to be in _that _much trouble. He will have to call his dad now, there was no way around it. _Oh God, he is going to be so fucking disappointed!_

Stiles drifted into his headspace, the room blurring in front of him, the loud banging in his ears blocking out any sounds as the panic mixed with nausea.

"Mr. Stilinski!"

Stiles snapped back to attention looking at the concerned face of the older Omega. He gripped his hands to stifle the tremble and gave a shuddering sigh.

"Don't freak out on me yet. I'm here to offer a possible solution," she said, pushing a glass of water in his direction, "Your characteristics, as well as the nature and the degree of your crime, makes you eligible for Beta Rehabilitation Program, Stiles. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Stiles nodded uncertainly. He has heard about the program before, it was promoted vigorously on the federal channels as the big success, resulting in the reduction of the prison population and minimal recidivism among the participants.

"The Program focuses on helping people like you, Betas who due to lack of guidance strayed away from their path…"

Stiles couldn't help but grimace at the promotional bullcrap. The skepticism was not lost on the woman, but she ignored it and continued, "From our experience, the Rehabilitation Program along with proper guidance of a responsible Alpha in a caring home environment help young men and women overcome their criminal tendencies."

_Criminal tendencies… oh please._

Stiles understood what she was implying and he should probably look less irritated, but he couldn't help feeling like he was in the middle of a propagandistic campaign.

"How long?"

"The standard rehabilitation period is 2 years, with reevaluation after the first 6 months."

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. He already knew he was going to accept the offer. Anything beat jail time, really. And he could probably even be assigned to his own father to straighten him out during the "rehabilitation period" - his dad was an Alpha after all. And yes it would be very humiliating as a 20-year-old adult to revert back to his teenage years when his dad was still his legal guardian, but what was little humiliation compared to prison?

"The aim is to socialize you back to be a proper member of society. You will be expected to adhere to a certain schedule, that will involve work/education or both as well as sport and cultural activities. Pretty normal life really. Your compliance will be assured by the Alpha, who will have legal custody over you. It will be his responsibility to help you, guide you and discipline you if necessary."

Stiles winced at the prospect of going over his dad's lap, which hasn't happened for well over 10 years. The sheriff was known to be a strong no-nonsense Alpha, however, he was absolute pants when it came to disciplining his own son. Stiles rarely felt the hand of his father growing up and once he hit his teenage years he managed to talk his way out of most punishments.

"There will be weekly visits by a social worker to see your progress. After 6 months you will be subjected to your first review. Sometimes that's where it ends for many Betas, as their life is fully back on track. If more time is needed, the program extends for an additional 6 months. By the end of the second year, 95% of our subjects are fully rehabilitated."

"So do I have a say in which Alpha is assigned to me?"

"That is not standard practice, however, your wishes will be taken into account."

Stiles frowned at the diplomatic answer that basically meant 'no'. "Well, my dad is an Alpha…"

"We avoid including friends and family members into the program," the lady interrupted him.

"Why? Wouldn't it be beneficial for a person that actually knows me, to be responsible for me?" Stiles argued.

"Not if they failed that job to begin with," she said firmly.

_Ouch!_

Stiles glared at her ready to jump to his father's defense. Not like it was his fault that Stiles screwed up! He was an awesome dad and she had no right to judge him! He opened his mouth to say as much, but the Omega spoke first.

"Stiles, an Alpha has already been assigned to you."

"What? But I haven't even agreed to the whole thing yet!"

"Apologies. IF you agree, of course," she corrected herself.

_So much for having my wishes taken into consideration._ Stiles sighed and frowned in his lap in resignation, "What else can I do?"

"All things considered this is a very good option, Stiles. You won't even have a record."

That was a good thing of course. It basically meant that his future won't be tarnished and he can still pursue any career he wanted. Even if his father got involved and somehow pulled a miracle to save him from doing time, Stiles would still get a criminal record, and this way he was avoiding it altogether. But still... living with a random Alpha he didn't know and being ordered around, let alone _disciplined_ for the next 6 months didn't sound all that appealing to Stiles.

_But better than prison!_

"Alright."

"Lovely," she said with a quick smile as if she didn't really expect any other answer. "Now we just need to go through a few legal procedures… I'll prepare the papers, you can go wait in the waiting room. There are coffee machines," she winked at him, "Your Alpha should be already there."

Stiles furrowed his brows in suspicion as he stood up to leave the room. This was all happening a bit too quick for his taste. The Alpha was already waiting for him? Surely it couldn't be...

"You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

Stiles ran his hands through his hair, desperately glancing around in hopes there were more people in the waiting area. But there was only one person sitting on the bench in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and his expression royally pissed.

His rare Alphahole.

* * *

_TBC_

_Merry Christmas everyone!_


	2. Rough beginnings - part 1

_Author's note: This is part one of the chapter. It just got kinda long, so I decided to split it in two._

_Some triggery scenes here. (see the warning in the end notes, if you are trigger happy) Lots of angst, some hurt, and not much comfort. But I promise it will get better from here=)_

* * *

"No way. You are…?" Stiles gaped, gesticulating wildly and hoping that he was somehow misreading the situation.

"Yes," the Alpha growled, and boy oh boy did he look pissed.

"You… You volunteered?" Stiles stammered incredulously. As far as he knew, the Alphas in the program were all volunteers. Sure, they got some financial compensation, but Stiles couldn't imagine this stuck up dude would be tempted by it. So… why?

"Do I _look_ like I volunteered?" the dick snapped, glaring at Stiles.

"Then how..?"

"Same as you I presume. It's either this or spending some quality time behind bars," he grumbled.

"Listen, Richard," Stiles scratched his head, searching for words to mitigate Alpha's obvious anger. If they were going to spend the next half a year together, might as well try starting anew, but the guy frowned even further, "Dick. Can I call you Dick?"

"It's Derek, you moron."

"Oh…" Stiles made a face, "Dick would fit better," he added quietly. But probably not quietly enough for Derek not to hear.

The Alpha moved quickly, before Stiles had the chance to even flinch he was taken by the collar of his shirt and slammed against the wall, with Derek's angry face fuming down on him.

"You think you are funny? You little shit, I could rip your tongue out right here and save myself the pain of listening to you for the next 6 months."

"Alright, alright, alright! Point taken!" Stiles croaked, pressing his palms against Derek's chest and feeling the stony muscles through the fabric. He meant to push the angry Alpha away but instead blushed at the impromptu touch.

Derek noticed that his intimidation technique for some reason yielded the opposite results and immediately let go of him, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Wipe the drool off your chin, idiot."

Stiles was so flustered he even forgot to glare at the Alphahole for his arrogance.

"Gentlemen, please come in," Mrs. Yukimora called them, opening the door. Her eyes widened slightly at seeing the two so close to each other with Stiles blushing furiously, but she refrained from commenting.

They followed her back into the room and she placed a stack of papers in front of each of them. There were rules and regulations for the program as well as disclaimers of liability and other legal mumbo jumbo. However, one thing made Stiles positively blanch.

"But this is…"

"Yes, you will have to enter into marriage. There is no way around it."

"Are you serious right now?!" he exclaimed, glancing back and forth between Noshiko and Derek. The Alpha appeared less shocked than Stiles was, but he didn't look any happier about it.

The Omega shrugged apologetically, "Unfortunately since the program is still fairly new there is no easier way to give the Responsible Alpha and the Awarded Beta…"

"Awarded?! Does this feel like an award to you?!" Derek snapped.

"_Entrusted_ Beta," she corrected herself, "Anyway as I was saying you two will need to have legal standing, in case one of you, for example, ends up in the hospital, you need to prove that you should be allowed into the ICU."

"But marriage…" Stiles croaked appalled.

"What is it, princess? Can't do it without the white gown?" Derek scoffed.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, if anyone should need a gown it's you! Maybe then somebody could actually mistake you for a normal human being!"

Derek looked like he might exact a quick (and likely painful) revenge for the outburst but the Omega beat him to it.

"Mr. Stilinski!" she chided, eyeing him sternly.

"Sorry, ma'am," Stiles apologized, making sure to address the apology to her and not to Derek.

Noshiko looked like she might say more on this outburst, but then just continued with her explanation. "You needn't worry Stiles, once the program ends, so will the marriage, it won't lead to any unpleasant consequences, neither legal nor material, you will be signing the prenup, of course."

The last bit was obviously addressed to Derek, even though she kept looking at Stiles. Derek's face didn't give away relief nor appreciation to have his assets protected from Stiles, he had the same "I hate to be here" expression he was wearing in the cell.

"Fine."

"If you want to have your father present for the ceremony, it is possible, but you will have to remain in the holding cell till then," Noshiko said. She didn't ask for Derek's consent and Stiles assumed, that Derek already gave his at the preliminary hearing.

"A ceremony?"

"Well, you can just sign the papers now, but if you'd like a proper…"

"No! Make it as quick as possible. And don't call my father, he has enough on his plate, he doesn't deserve any more trouble."

"Are you sure? After all, he named his child Mie… Miech.. Mieczy…" Derek pointed the finger at Stiles's name in the file, "What the fuck is that?"

"It's Stiles!"

"That's hardly better, Stilinski."

"Right back at you, Dick!"

"Haha," Derek deadpanned, "Wasn't funny the first time."

"Yeah? I was insulting you, moron!"

Derek grabbed Stiles by the neck and slammed him down against the desk with force.

"Mr. Hale!" the Omega thundered standing up.

Derek let go of Stiles but was far from looking chastened.

"Jesus! Somebody get him a straightjacket!" Stiles fumed, pushing his chair as far as possible from the Alpha, "If you _'award'_ me to this nutcase, I won't survive the night!"

"Mr. Hale, you would do well to read the terms of the contract. If any harm comes to the entrusted Beta, it's your neck on the line. Not only you will be expelled from the program, but you will also go straight to jail with an added sentence for the mistreatment of your ward."

Stiles had to admire the sharp tone that the Omega took towards the Alphahole. Obviously she worked with many Alphas and delinquent Betas, so she had to be well versed in putting them in line, but it still amazed Stiles, especially when he saw Derek deflate under her stern gaze.

Satisfied with the effect her words had on the Alpha she turned her attention back to Stiles, "Mr. Stilinski. You are enrolling in the program to be corrected, not damaged. There will be weekly visits to check on your wellbeing and your progress, but in case you feel threatened at _any_ time," she gave Derek a pointed look, "there is a 24/7 helpline."

Stiles made a mental note to always have his phone on him. Even though he was under no illusion that the helpline could actually do anything to protect him, shall Derek decide to, say, break all his bones or something of the sort.

The door opened and the older Alpha who fetched Derek from the cell before entered the room.

"Oops, am I too early?"

"Mr. Hale, right on time, actually, I believe we are just about to sign the papers," Noshiko greeted him and then turned back to Stiles and Derek, "As you know, for the marriage contract to be valid, it needs a signature from two witnesses. Mr. Hale agreed to be one of them, I will be the second."

"Peter," the older Hale introduced himself offering his hand for a handshake, which Stiles took with a careful half-smile. "I'm Derek's uncle. I apologize for his behavior."

The apology appeared rather insincere, and more of a jab towards Derek, who rewarded his uncle with an annoyed glare. Peter wasn't even here to see, what was he apologizing for, though Stiles's reddened cheek from getting faceplanted onto the desk probably gave the Alpha the rough idea.

Stiles wasn't sure how to react to this fake apology, so he just turned his attention back to the marriage contract, reading over his future husband's profile. Twenty-six years old Derek Hale, looking just as pissed on his picture as he did in real life, graduated from Stanford MBA program, a shareholder of Hale Industries…

So that's why Hale sounded familiar. Of course. Talia Hale and Blast Pharmaceuticals scandal and the subsequent fire killing almost the whole Hale family a couple of years ago.

"Sign here," Noshiko pointed at the paper, interrupting his line of thought.

Stiles raised his gaze to the Omega and then glanced at Derek. The Alphahole was wearing his usual '_Alphaglare' _with his arms crossed over his chest. Stiles wasn't sure whether he was still the main target for the Alpha's irritation, or the dickish uncle managed to steal his spotlight, but he did notice that Derek already signed the papers, so perhaps he was simply brooding over the deep shit they were enrolling themselves into.

Stiles exhaled and signed the papers. Mrs. Yukimura went next and then handed them over to Peter Hale.

"All done, you may kiss the bride," Peter cheered, though the joke went unappreciated by all the parties involved. Stiles scowled at him, Derek never really stopped and even Noshiko cast him a reproachful frown.

"Wow, you guys made one hell of a wedding, I don't think I've ever been to a party this wild." Peter seemed to be the only one to find the humor in the whole situation, one could even say he was gloating.

"Are we done here?" Derek asked Noshiko, ignoring his uncle's glee.

"Well we don't have wedding rings, bracelets or necklaces here, so you will have to get them on your own."

Derek grimaced, "Is it necessary?"

"Not _necessary_ per se, but it's protocol."

"Anything else?"

"No, Mr. Hale, this is pretty much it."

He slapped Stiles's shoulder none too gently grumbling, "Let's go," and left the room without as much as a glance towards his uncle.

"Do I have to…?" Stiles muttered gesticulating towards Derek in a silent plea ala _'Please don't make me go with him'._

"I'm afraid so," Mrs. Yukimura said with an empathetic smile.

"Good luck, Stiles. Word of advice, try not to piss him off any more than he already is," Peter offered his fake encouragement, which was about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle.

Stiles nodded at them politely and followed _his Alpha_ outside.

* * *

xxx

The drive "home" was a silent affair. Derek didn't seem to be in a talking mood, (was he ever?) and Stiles tried to put on the radio, but the low growl stalled his hand. Derek's car was surprisingly down to earth Ford SUV, nothing flashy. Given the guy owned ¼ of Hale Industries, Stiles expected a limo with a driver, not a relatively plain-looking black Edge model.

"So, what are we getting?" Stiles asked, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"Well, the rings, bracelets or necklaces? I'm fine with any, really, as long as it's not yellow gold, that's not really my style. Rose or silver gold is better, I'm also ok with a combination of the two…" Stiles trailed off when he saw the look Derek was giving him.

"We are not getting anything."

"Right." Stiles tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. I mean, why would he _want_ to have any jewelry that would signify their bond anyway?

No. He had every right to feel disappointed. At only 20 years old, he just got married to a douchebag who hated him, just so that he had legal rights to boss him around. How fucking romantic…

Derek's apartment was just as his car, weirdly unimpressive. It was on the top floor and had a decent view, but other than that there was nothing to give away the guy's wealth. The furniture while good quality, was clearly there to serve its purpose rather than flatter the interior with its design. A simple living room with an adjacent kitchen, clean but not particularly tidy, a bathroom, a bedroom, and a guest room. All in all, the apartment screamed of a single guy, who didn't spend there much of his time.

The guest room was apparently not in use at all, except for an occasional sleepover, which could be deduced from the unmade bed. There was no furniture, no wardrobe, table, chairs, shelves, nothing. Just a messy bed and a lot of boxes with random stuff and some flowerpots with dying flowers.

One could think that Derek just moved in and didn't have time to go over all the stuff yet, but given the fat layer of dust on the boxes, the "just moved in" probably happened a couple of years ago.

"Lovely," Stiles remarked unenthusiastically, "Listen, Derek, I'll need the new bedsheets, or maybe a new bed, just to be safe. Also, furniture - a wardrobe, a desk, I'm still a student you know, a chair, some proper lights…"

"Wait," Derek stopped him holding his palms up for Stiles to hold on, while he went to get something from the kitchen. He returned and handed Stiles a cup. Stiles took it feeling confused and looked inside, but there was nothing.

"What is it?"

"My cup of care."

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Hilarious. No really, you don't actually expect me to live in that abandoned storage room?"

Derek just pointed at the cup again.

"Are you fucking serious?! Prison has conditions better than this!"

"I'm not stopping you."

"Asshole. You know, we can't back out now!" Stiles fumed throwing his hands in the air. One thing he definitely didn't expect is to have a problem with living conditions when being entrusted to a multimillionaire. "Jesus, you own 25% of a fucking conglomerate and you live in this shithole?! What is wrong with you?"

The last bit might have been a bit much, given there was absolutely nothing wrong with the apartment, apart from not living up to Stiles's expectations. Derek apparently has had enough. His eyes flashed red, as he took Stiles by the collar and pointed an angry finger in his face.

"Listen here, kiddo, I'm…"

"I'm not a kid!" Stiles shot back defiantly. He watched the fangs elongate again and felt his heart skip a beat at the beastly growl that ripped through the Alpha's throat. "Ok, ok, I'm listening," he held his palms up in defeat.

"I'm only gonna say it once. I have had it with your shit! You got us both into this mess and it takes a lot of willpower not to snap your neck for it, because trust me, it's fucking tempting! I don't care about your wants, needs or demands. Stay out of my way and out of my sight, or I'll make sure you regret that you haven't chosen prison! Is that clear?!"

"Crystal."

Only then did Derek let go of him and Stiles let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Honestly, the guy had some serious anger issues. Not like Stiles even said anything that bad to trigger him. His requests were valid and hardly over the top. And his objection? The Alphahole was only 6 years older, definitely not old enough to keep calling Stiles a 'kid'.

Well, it's not the end of the world, Stiles will figure something out. He will get his stuff tomorrow, perhaps he can "borrow" some furniture from the dorms as well. He had some money saved on the side, though the 700 dollars that Derek "stole" from him would definitely help his situation. Perhaps he could press him later when the Alphahole is less pissed.

Stiles went to fill Derek's 'cup of care' with some water for the night and ask for some basic toiletries.

The Alpha was on the phone and by the sound of it, his mood took another dive.

"What do you mean he didn't talk to you?!" he snapped angrily, "No, Isaac, I told you I had a situation."

Stiles listened intently wondering what kind of business has he interrupted with his weed sale. He assumed Derek was at the casino just to gamble, but now it looked like he had an actual agenda there.

"Goddammit Isaac, you were supposed to press him! ... Now that's just an excuse!..."

Stiles heard the angry voice from the other side of the line and Derek just growled in exasperation, "Fuck that!" and hung up the phone. Then he finally noticed Stiles and narrowed his eyes threateningly, "What do you want?"

"Listen, I know about your empty cup of care and all, but I'd like to remind you that you actually signed off on taking _care_ of me. Not to mention you will be getting paid for it too, so the least you could do is give me a fucking toothbrush and a t-shirt to sleep in…"

Stiles caught his breath when he saw Derek unbuckle his belt. "W-what are you d-doing?" he stammered, looking at the menacing gesture wide-eyed.

"My spousal fiduciary duty," the Alpha hissed taking the belt off and folding it over.

Stiles took a step back, thinking frantically how to get himself out of this sudden (highly unappealing) predicament, "Calm down, Derek," he said in a soothing manner, the way one would talk to an unstable patient, "I don't need a toothbrush."

"No, you need something else," Derek growled, walking towards him with obvious intent.

Stiles bolted. Or rather he tried… and failed. Derek got him before he even managed to get to the door. The Alpha dragged him towards the sofa and bend him over its arm with humiliating ease. All the while Stiles struggled and protested with loud "Noes" and "Donts", which fell on deaf ears.

The first blow landed on his bottom and took the air from his lungs. Stiles tried to get up, but Derek pinned his hands on the small of his back and held him down with one hand while the other continued to punish him, as he kicked and yelped, but to no avail.

Feeling helpless and betrayed, the tears stung his eyes and before long they were streaming down his cheeks. This was all wrong. This was not how marital discipline was supposed to look like if one took his information from pop culture.

Growing up in a society where corporal punishment was as common as breathing, the media tended to romanticize the act greatly. It was supposed to be done out of care and love, not out of irritation or anger. The common movie scenario would be about an ambitious Omega, who kept overworking herself, and an authoritative Alpha-romantic-interest-figure, who would punish her because he cared too much to let her destroy herself over her career. She would resist the discipline at first but eventually give in to it with appreciation that he cared enough to correct her and protect her, if even from herself. She would fall in love with him, roll credits - the end.

Stiles felt none of the appreciation or gratitude, nor guilt over his "bad behavior". He asked for a fucking toothbrush for fuck's sake! He most definitely didn't feel _loved_ or _cared for_. And damn those movies for concealing how much it actually fucking hurt!

The whole thing was over in less than 20 seconds, but it was enough to reduce Stiles to a tearful mess. Derek took him by the shoulder and righted him back up. He looked like he was about to scold Stiles some more, but his expression changed immediately when he saw Stiles's tear-streaked face.

Stiles's vision was blurred from crying, but he saw the shock that took over Derek. He even dropped the belt. Stiles looked at him waiting for the Alpha to say something, but Derek just stared at him dumbfounded, like he was genuinely surprised that he had actually hurt him.

Taking Derek's awkward silence as dismissal Stiles went back to his room. He needed to be alone and sob some of his misery out into those used bedsheets. He didn't care who was sleeping here before him anymore, he just wanted to cry in peace. The evening turned out to be the worst fucking evening of his life. He lost his money, lost his freedom, got married to an asshole, who has strapped him just because Stiles was annoying him. Could this get any worse?

"Are you ok?" Derek's voice came from the doorway. It was way softer than before and if Stiles actually cared enough to look at him, he would be surprised to find the regretful expression on his face.

"Never better," Stiles spat, his voice muffled through the pillow, as he tried to get his breathing under control. He might be hurt, but he didn't want to sob in front of the Alpha dickhead.

"I brought you the t-shirt and the toothbrush, as well as some towels. You can use anything you find in the bathroom."

Stiles turned his head to look at the Alpha surprised. _Why beat me, if you were going to just give me this stuff anyway? _

_Or was this an apology?_

"Thanks," Stiles noted with a tinge of sarcasm, as he turned his head back, holding on to his sulking. _Why should everything be suddenly ok, just because the dick looks remorseful and suddenly treats me like a guest?_

Stiles heard Derek approach him and sit on the bed by his side. His whole body tensed when he felt Derek touch his arm. He glanced at the Alpha with alarm, wondering if he was in for another round of discipline just because he dared to turn away from him in defiance. But instead, he saw the black liquid pulsate through the veins of Derek's hand as his face twisted in a painful grimace. With each second this went on the throbbing pain in Stiles's backside slowly dissipated.

_What the hell was that?!_

Stiles touched his butt surprised to find that it didn't hurt anymore. He looked at Derek in a silent question, but the Alpha just stood up and turned to leave.

"Hey, what did you do?" Stiles called after him, but his question remained unanswered as Derek left the room.

* * *

_TBC_

_Yeah, not exactly a walk in the park. _

_WARNING: Derek is a Dick, and Stiles annoys him to the point of receiving a rather undeserved strapping. And yeah, neither is happy about the experience._

_But as I said, it will get better. It will still be a bumpy ride, but nothing quite as unfeeling._


	3. Rough beginnings - part 2

_Author's note: here's part two=)_

_Happy New Year!_

_(BRP - Beta Rehabilitation Program; __RA - Responsible Alpha)_

* * *

Stiles woke up the next morning feeling disoriented, and for a moment there, he enjoyed the blissful unawareness of the dive his life has taken since yesterday. But that moment passed and Stiles was hit with the reality of his situation. Casino, Derek, Beta Rehabilitation Program, Marriage, and _ouch_ \- a fresh reminder of his recent punishment, once Stiles _sat up _on the bed.

He pulled down his boxers to examine the damage - there was a couple of visible welts that bloomed over the night, the pain wasn't of a 'kill me now' kind, but it was rather embarrassing and made sitting an uncomfortable experience. The deep resentment and hurt he was feeling towards Derek yesterday was dulled significantly, which was as surprising as it was annoying because Stiles _wanted _to hate the Alphahole, not to mention he had every right to.

He found Derek in the kitchen having toasts for breakfast and reading a business magazine. His hair was wet from the morning shower and the towel was hanging around his neck, the smell of fresh masculine cologne gave Stiles a déjà vu from the elevator when he saw him for the first time.

"Hey," Stiles said awkwardly, trying not to stare at the stupidly alluring Alpha and eyeing the breakfast on the table with unexpected appetite. Well perhaps not that unexpected, since he hasn't eaten anything for the past 15 hours or so.

Derek just nodded at him, without taking his eyes off the article he was reading, as he absentmindedly buttered the crispy toasts.

"Can I have some coffee?"

Derek didn't answer and just pushed the kettle with a freshly made coffee in his direction. Stiles didn't wait for a further invitation. After all, he lived here now. He poured himself a cup and then reached out to grab one of Derek's toasts.

The Alpha raised his eyes and gave him such an icy glare that Stiles immediately put the toast back to its original place.

"Bread, toaster, butter, jam, ham," Derek pointed at the articles on the table, "Help yourself, but don't touch my food if you want to keep your fingers intact."

Suddenly it wasn't so hard to summon the hate and resentment he felt towards this dickhead yesterday. It felt quite natural actually.

Stiles made a couple of toasts and lowered himself on the chair carefully. There was a snorting sound coming from Derek which made Stiles clench his fists. Whatever semblance of human decency came over him yesterday when he came to Stiles' room looking all remorseful, was obviously gone today. Today the Alphahole seemed to be relishing in the pain he had caused.

Stiles tried not to squirm much in order not to give the dickhead the satisfaction, but it was hard to find a position that wouldn't become unpleasant after a while.

At some point Derek just rolled his eyes with a scoff, "Stop with the theatrics, you can't possibly still be in pain."

"Are you kidding?" Stiles retorted, "My ass is black and blue!" Ok, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, given the state of his butt was not quite as dramatic.

And Derek didn't buy it either. "Riiight."

"What, you don't believe me?"

The Alpha just gave him a skeptical look.

"You really don't know your own strength, do you?"

"Why don't you pull down your pants, and show me?" the dick countered with sarcasm.

For a second there Stiles was tempted to do just that. The sheer _nerve_ the guy had to call him a liar?! After belting him the way he did? Stiles felt his temper boil.

However.

He _did_ overstate the damage and he was definitely plenty self-conscious about undressing in front of the man, especially the one that Stiles found attractive (not to mention the one who actually _knew_ that Stiles found him attractive, and called him out on it multiple times!).

"I'm not gonna humiliate myself further just to prove a point of basic human anatomy to you, dickhead," he said sulkily, glaring at the Alpha.

Derek tilted his head to the side still rather disbelieving, but then just reached over and grabbed Stiles's wrist. He grimaced when the black liquid started pulsating through his veins and Stiles immediately felt the soreness being taken away.

It was a nice little trick and Stiles would definitely appreciate sitting properly for a change, but his wounded ego hurt him even more than his butt did.

"Am I supposed to be thankful?" he spat scornfully.

"If you value your pride over your comfort…" Derek shrugged, taking his hand away.

"Oh so now you believe me?"

Derek just looked away visibly uneasy. Well obviously if he was taking his pain away, then Stiles had to still_ be_ in pain. The Alpha was wearing the same lost expression he had yesterday when he came to Stiles' room to make sure he was ok. If Stiles could detach himself from the situation he would probably even feel sympathetic.

He was not gonna forgive the dickhead of course, especially since he never received an actual apology, but he could settle for a temporary ceasefire for now. Stiles offered his hand back and Derek just took it without a word and continued channeling the pain away.

"How long would you feel such punishment?" Stiles asked out of curiosity.

"A couple minutes, half an hour top."

"Damn."

That was impressive even for an Alpha. Stiles has definitely never seen anyone with such prominent abilities before. The bloodline must have been of some insane purity. Either that or the Pharmaceutical business was Hale Industries' main specialization for a reason. Who knew what kind of drugs the rich family cooked behind closed doors? Though Derek didn't really look like much of a junkie.

"Well, haven't you learned in elementary school that Betas are different from Alphas?" Stiles snapped, annoyed at himself for admiring the Alphahole.

"That's why I went so easy on you!" Derek argued and seeing Stiles's scandalized expression, he looked away again. "Or so I thought," he added quietly, avoiding eye contact.

* * *

xxx

After breakfast, they went to get Stiles's stuff from the dorms. Derek's place was not too far from the uni, but Stiles will definitely need his car to drive to classes, and his jeep was still in Las Vegas.

Stiles was studying Forensic Chemistry at the University of California - Baker. He wanted to stay close to his friends, so when Scott got accepted for veterinary undergrad at UC Baker, Stiles just picked something that was close to his line of interest in the same uni. He wasn't crazy about chemistry, but forensics gave him a connection to law enforcement, which was a field always close to his heart.

The campus was still rather quiet, as it usually was on Saturday mornings. Stiles hoped, that they will catch the time window when Scott worked out at the gym in order to avoid potential confrontation, but no such luck.

"Jesus, Stiles, where have you been?" his Alpha friend asked, jumping off the bed and giving Derek a curious look.

"I…" _Fuck. _Stiles didn't really think it through. Like at all. What was he supposed to say? How should he introduce Derek? "This is Derek, we uhm… met yesterday in Vegas."

"Oh…" the dumbfounded expression on Scott made Stiles blush because _of course,_ he would misunderstand the nature of their relationship. "Scott," he introduced himself offering Derek his hand. The handshake seemed to be a bit stiff in Stiles's opinion, but neither Alpha said anything else.

Scott turned his attention back to Stiles, "What were you doing in Vegas?"

"Meeting him," Stiles lied. Since Scott already misunderstood, might as well hide the whole weed gig, which his friend highly disapproved of. "Yeah I just came to get my stuff…" he trailed off when he saw Scott's shocked expression. _Damn this is really not going well._

Scott came closer and lowered his voice, "What's going on? Are you in trouble?"

"No, just moving out," Stiles explained awkwardly, he glanced at Derek hoping the Alpha will throw him a line.

"Work related," Derek said, "Stiles will be interning in Hale Pharmaceuticals, we work late hours and my place is close."

"And that's why he is moving in with you after just meeting you?" Scott asked lifting his chin in a sign of dominance. Stiles always liked the protective streak in his friend, but right now he wished Scott would back off and not challenge the other Alpha.

"No," Derek answered, straightening his back and adapting his posture to signal he was ready for the potential fight. "That's just because I can't get enough of him," he added, pulling Stiles into a one-armed hug.

Stiles would like to think that he played it cool and looked natural in Derek's embrace, but he'd be lying to himself because he went absolutely crimson and totally rigid. Even knowing that Derek did it only to keep Stiles's pretense, the sudden close proximity of the intoxicating Alpha made his mind go into wild dirty R-rated scenarios.

Judging by Scott's lifted eyebrows, it was readable all over his face too...

"So cute, when blushing," Derek remarked in an uncharacteristically affectionate tone. He ruffled Stiles's hair, the gesture a bit tougher than Stiles's would have liked, but it did pull him back together somewhat.

He detached himself from the Alpha awkwardly and started packing his clothes. He needed to get out of there as soon as possible. If Scott's confusion and silent disapproval weren't enough, Derek's fake amiability was even more disconcerting and was messing with Stiles's head. Stiles knew he was a bad actor and that Scott was probably not buying his fake smiles towards Derek, thankfully his friend was tactful enough not to openly confront him.

"So you and Scott... you're close?" Derek asked him when they got back to the car. It didn't sound necessarily as a loaded question, but it was likely that Derek picked up on Scott's protectiveness, which someone who didn't know him could misinterpret for jealousy.

"Not that it is any of your business, Scott is my best friend since like forever."

"But he doesn't approve of your little side job, huh?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Stiles flushed averting his gaze as he sat in the car, pretending like he was busy grappling with the seat belt to avoid acknowledging the truth behind those words.

"You know you are done with that, right?" Derek said with underlying sternness in his voice, as he put the car in gear.

"I'm not dumb," Stiles grumbled. Ït was pretty obvious, that he will have to find some other source of income.

"Could have fooled me."

Stiles scowled at him, but Derek kept his eyes on the road. "Were you serious about the internship?"

"No, but it could be arranged."

"Thank you," Stiles said and for once there was no sarcasm behind it. All things considered, Derek acted "nice" (for the lack of a better word). He drove Stiles to get his stuff from the dorms, helped him carry it, offered him a job and even played along when Stiles pretended they were romantically involved.

"You're welcome." Derek shot a quick glance at him. "If Scott is your best friend, you might want to consider telling him the truth."

Stiles stayed silent. He knew Derek was right. He wasn't looking forward to telling Scott about this whole mess, but he knew he owed it to his best friend.

"Cause that was some really shitty acting, Stilinski. Are you a virgin or something?"

_One step forward two steps back. Asshole._

"I'm not!" Most of Stiles's hook-ups never led anywhere and those few that did weren't exactly mind-blowing sexual experiences, but he wasn't a virgin in any sense of the word anymore. "I just didn't expect that you will start groping me!"

"You weren't ready for the dream-come-true?"

"Screw you."

"Still not interested."

Stiles opened his mouth to say "Fuck you" but then closed it again, realizing the wording won't have the desired effect.

* * *

xxx

"So, what kind of cultural activities are you into?" Stiles asked, placing the bags with takeaway food on the table.

On their way back to Derek's place, they stopped at the nearby fast-food drive-in to get something for lunch and Derek was even graceful enough to pay for it. Stiles didn't offer to pay his share, not just because the Alphahole was a gazillionaire and Stiles was fine with being a sponger, but simply cause according to him Derek still owed him seven hundred bucks for the weed, and Stiles very much doubted he will ever see that money.

"None," the Alpha replied, biting into his burger.

"That won't fly, you have to be 'socializing' me, remember? So, you know: theatre, museums, expositions. Oh, I know. Clubs? Do clubs count? We could go dancing. Don't look at me this way, it's a _social_ activity. Or cinema. What kind of movies do you like? I wonder what is on this month, I like a lot of different genres, comedies, horrors, sci-fi… Hey, are you listening?"

"Anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" Derek grumbled, casting him an annoyed scowl.

"Yes, quite often actually," Stiles nodded, not at all affected by the sour mood of his companion, "So movies? Clubs? Museums?"

"No."

"Shopping?"

"No."

"Gaming events? Cooking classes? Dancing lessons?"

Derek got up from his seat and walked around Stiles, checking his back and neck.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked confused and not a little unnerved to feel the Alphas hands all over him.

"Searching for the 'mute' button, there has to be one."

"Hilarious," Stiles snapped, brushing Derek's hands off his neck, "This is _Rehabilitation_ Program. We need a plan."

"Here's a plan: you shut the fuck up and stay out of my sight. That way we might both survive this."

Stiles glared at the Alphahole. He had no doubt that doing _that _would definitely not work for Yukimura. But then again, this was exactly the reason why Alphas in the program should be volunteers. The Betas were supposed to be the reluctant parties, while the Responsible Alphas were supposed to be the enforcers of the rules, schedule and "good behavior". One would think, that having an Alpha who didn't give a fuck about his 'rehabilitation' was a win, except it also meant that the Program could stretch out for years!

"You know this won't work, right?"

"The only thing I know is that if you won't stop pestering me and let me eat in peace, I will rip your throat out. With my teeth," Derek threatened dropping back to his seat somewhat tiredly.

Stiles called bullshit on that, since Derek's fangs didn't even elongate like they did before. Besides, they both knew that Responsible Alphas couldn't actually harm Entrusted Betas. Not without dire consequences, that is. Stiles lasted for about two minutes to be quiet before starting another rant.

"So how about sports? I used to play lacrosse in High school. I wasn't like super great, but I was on the team. Scott was pretty good at it, we won a lot of games actually. But now I think I'd rather try something else. Maybe tennis? Or box? That would be cool. Whoa, what are you doing?!"

Derek didn't say a word, he simply grabbed Stiles and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"What the...! Hey! Put me down!" Stiles immediately started struggling, eager to escape such an undignified position, but the low threatening growl subdued his fighting.

Derek walked towards the guest room, dropped Stiles on the bed unceremoniously, and then left shutting the door behind him with a clicking sound of the key.

_What the fuck? Did the bastard actually lock me here?!_

Stiles tried the door and indeed, it was locked, "Derek? DEREK! Let me out, asshole!" Stiles shouted, banging on the door.

"You are in a time out. Now shut up before I come to chain you to the bed and gag you too," came the snarky reply.

Stiles stopped with the ruckus and went to punch the pillow a couple of times instead. A fucking time out? Seriously? Just because he tried to come up with a rehabilitation plan? Something that Derek was actually supposed to, but refused, to be doing?

Perhaps he really ought to just call the helpline and tell them just how unsuitable the Alphahole was for the BRP. Yukimura definitely cared about her success rate, so Stiles had a good chance of landing another Alpha, right?

Uhm… Not necessarily.

As much as Stiles hated to admit it, he will have a hard time persuading anyone, that he was being abused. Even the welts on his butt would be considered by many an appropriate consequence for misbehavior. And if we take into consideration the fact that Stiles was a criminal on rehabilitation most won't really care whether Derek had a legitimate reason for the castigation or not.

Besides, Derek was not stupid, if Stiles ratted on him and somebody came to check up on his wellbeing, Derek would cook together a believable story about some made-up disobedience (or _not so made-up_ disrespect) and explain away the poor state of Stiles' living arrangements as temporary or some other bullshit.

One thing was certain though, once the Program official left, Stiles would be in for it big time. No, he will have to figure out how to manage the Alphahole without including the people from BRP. On this discouraging note, Stiles gritted his teeth and went to unpack his things.

* * *

xxx

The sound of the front door opening brought Stiles back from his slumber. The relief washed over him, only to be replaced by raging anger. Stiles didn't remember when was the last time he felt so incredibly furious with anyone.

Derek left, and I mean, left the apartment. With Stiles locked in the room. For 8 fucking hours!

Originally Stiles just went over his stuff, but he soon realized that with no place to put his clothes, there wasn't much point in unpacking. Then he just sulked and waited for Derek to stop being a dick and let him out. After an hour or so he got tired of sulking and decided to browse the internet on his laptop, but since he didn't know the wifi password, he had to settle on playing around with his phone, which engaged him for about another hour.

He gave up on outlasting Derek when he needed to use the toilet. And that was when he found out that Derek must have left the apartment because all his shouting and door-kicking was met with silence.

And just in case you were wondering… Stiles didn't hold it for 6 hours. When faced with a decision whether to have his bladder burst or relieve himself in some for it unintended place, he chose the latter. Besides, that dying plant couldn't have minded anymore. And urine had plenty of nitrogen, so if you squint you could even call it fertilizer.

The lack of food and water was another problem that was growing more prominent with each passing hour. Stiles never finished his burger, and his stomach was grumbling loudly but it had nothing on his thirst.

He decided, that if Derek didn't show up by midnight, he will call Scott, or the helpline, or even police, cause seriously - what the fuck?!

Stiles got off the bed and went to wait by the door, crossing his hands. He heard Derek approach the door, there was a slight hesitation before the key finally turned in the keyhole. When the door opened, Stiles made sure to scorch the asshole down with his deathglare.

"You ok?" Derek asked, frowning at Stiles's aggressive posture.

"What do you think?" Stiles hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

"What's that smell?"

"I peed in the plant. Yeah, asshole, wipe that fucking look off your face, I didn't have a choice," Stiles snapped, before finally losing the last remnants of self-restraint, "I mean, what the actual FUCK!" he yelled, "You LOCKED me and just LEFT?! No food, no water, no toilet, for eight MOTHERFUCKING hours!"

"Cut down the drama, you are fine," Derek replied, though he didn't sound nearly as confident.

"Am I? AM I? What if something happened to me?"

"It would probably save me from this headache."

"You self-centered narcissistic asshole!" Stiles fumed, feeling dangerously close to punching Derek in the face. "If there was a fire, I'd fucking burn alive in that room banging on the door!"

"You'd actually die from smoke inhalation, way before the fire gets you."

"You…" Stiles gasped for air in indignation. The fact that Derek even dared to correct him at this point left him speechless. One would expect a bit more understanding from somebody whose family died in a fire. He raised his hands in silent rage and then stormed towards the kitchen.

"Stiles, wait, I'm sorry," Derek called, grabbing his hand. He grimaced searching for words and when he finally spoke he sounded frustrated, "Look, stuff came up and it was important and… anyway, I didn't think I will be gone for so long. I'm sorry." The last bit was said with barely perceptible underlying urgency in his voice while the pair of dark eyes looked at Stiles almost pleadingly.

Stiles stared at the Alpha for a couple of seconds, but his glare softened at the unexpected apology. And Derek even called him by his name. For the first time, actually.

"Give me your phone," he said, his tone still stiff, but not as enraged anymore. He held out his palm waiting for the Alpha to comply with his request. When Derek did, Stiles dialed his number and let it ring. He handed the phone back to him and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink, as he saved Derek's number on his phone.

"I brought dinner," Derek noted awkwardly, hinting at the boxes on the table.

Stiles was busy gulping down the water as if he ran a marathon, but he noticed the unmistakable guilty look on the Alpha and as he quenched the worst of his thirst his ire started to cool down.

"Chinese?" he asked, eyeing the deliciously smelling food.

"Yeah. Pick what you like, I bought more in case you were allergic or something."

The small glimpse of consideration couldn't outweigh Derek's intense douchebaggery, but that awkward slouched posture with hands in his pockets and the stupidly handsome guilty face coupled with those normally fierce eyes that right now looked everywhere but at Stiles… Stiles had a hard time clinging onto his anger.

Before they could sit down for dinner, somebody rang the doorbell. Derek went to answer the door and was met with a petite pretty Asian girl.

"Hello, you must be Derek Hale, I'm Kira Yukimura, your BRP supervisor. And before you ask, yes, Noshiko is my mother."

Stiles eyed the girl, trying to pinpoint her dynamic. She was pretty, but she didn't give him the Omega vibes, so perhaps a Beta?

"Mr. Stilinski," Kira addressed him with a warm smile, which very much resembled her mother's.

"Stiles."

"I knew you will say that."

Stiles wasn't sure whether the friendliness was genuine, there was something foxy about the girl but he couldn't help liking her right away.

"We are about to have dinner, you are welcome to join us," Stiles offered, sending a quick glance towards Derek in hopes he wasn't overstepping by acting as a host. Derek's barely visible nod reassured him, though there was no denying that Alpha looked very uncomfortable.

They went back to the kitchen and Stiles had to restrain himself not to bury his head into his plate like a hungry dog and keep some basic dining manners.

"So how are you settling in?" Kira asked him.

The seemingly innocent question caught him off guard and he started coughing as the food got stuck in his throat. Derek patted him on the back (way stronger than was necessary) and then handed him a bottle of beer to flush it down. Stiles took it with a quick 'thanks' and drank.

"Stiles is underage," Kira noted, her smile never leaving.

Both Stiles and Derek froze realizing their blunder. Kira let them fidget for a moment and then waved her hand, "It will be our little secret." She took out a notepad and wrote something down, which made the honesty behind her statement rather questionable.

"Uhm, it's going ok, I guess," Stiles said, pushing the beer bottle back to Derek, who looked just as uneasy, if not more.

"It's alright, everyone has troubles at start," she replied, seeing right through Stiles's lie. "Have you started with the demerit system?" she asked Derek.

"A what?" the Alpha frowned confused.

"Have you even read the fucking contract?" Stiles hissed, but obviously not quietly enough because Kira turned to him and gave him another one of her foxy smiles.

"Hmm, that would be _One_ right there, Stiles."

Stiles was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and Kira turned back to Derek, "Mr. Hale," her smile never faltering her voice remained friendly, but the undeniable strict undertone left no doubt as to the fact, that she was actually scolding the Alpha. "The demerit system is one of the easy tools to ensure the Awarded Beta's good behavior throughout the day."

Stiles noted that Derek didn't dare to object to the word "awarded" this time and realized that Noshiko must have been fully aware that Derek was no volunteer. It wouldn't surprise him if Yukimura assigned her fiercest and most trusted supervisor to the case, which happened to be her daughter.

"When the Beta steps out of line, he earns a demerit and at five demerits you enforce the previously agreed consequence. The slate is wiped clean at the end of every day to allow the subjects some sensible leeway. It's generally up to you what type of discipline you choose, though most go for corporal punishment. We leave it up to RAs, how many demerits shall merit an action. Some only allow three, some employ minor punishments for each, some don't use the system at all and just carry around the taming stick. After all, each Beta requires a different approach."

Stiles blanched at the mention of the "taming stick", which sounded both cruel and just positively medieval. He then realized that "landing another Alpha" was very much NOT in his best interest, because some of the volunteers to the program were likely to be sadists fulfilling their despicable needs under the pretense of the greater good.

Derek visibly cringed as well, but quickly schooled his features and just nodded his head, "Yes, we will work on that."

Stiles couldn't help squirming on the chair at those words. Kira eyed him with assessing gaze, a faintest of smiles grazing her lips, "Any cases of discipline?"

Both Stiles and Derek tensed at the question, which didn't escape Kira's attention and her smile faltered.

"Yeah, once," Stiles said, attempting a nonchalant tone.

"Reason?"

"Disrespect." He caught Derek's look of surprise, but so did Kira.

"I'd like to speak with Stiles alone," she said, her tone getting that strict no-nonsense edge.

Derek looked a bit ill as he got up to leave, but Stiles caught his arm. "Why? I have no problem speaking in front of my Alpha."

_Wow..._ Stiles surprised even himself with that statement.

"Very well," she conceded, but the smile didn't return to her face, "Was the punishment appropriate?"

Stiles knew that she will see through an outright lie, so he tried to avoid giving a straight answer, "That's not up to me to decide."

"Did it feel appropriate to you?" she pressed.

"Yes."

_Yup. She didn't buy it. _

Kira turned to Derek, "Mr. Hale?"

Derek just shook his head, dropping his gaze.

"I see," she mused, making another note in her notebook.

Stiles reached out and stopped her hand, "Look, we are still figuring stuff out, ok? I'm fine. We just need more time."

Kira gave him a long calculating look and then smiled again. "Alright," she chirped as if the whole conversation never happened, "Anything else I should know?"

Stiles gave Derek a quick glance and then shook his head. The Alpha followed his example.

"Alright gentlemen, if that's all, I'll see you in a week," Kira said, standing up, "And if you haven't yet, I suggest you start working on the Program."

They walked her to the door and as soon as it closed behind her, Derek grabbed Stiles by the shoulder. "Why did you do that?" he demanded.

"Why did I cover your ass, instead of feeding you to the scary Asian woman?"

Derek's jaw tightened, clearly discontented with the wording Stiles chose, but he didn't correct it.

"Because you owe me now," Stiles said, shaking off Derek's hand, "I want a properly furnished room, and I mean_ properly_! All of this _shit_," he pointed at the boxes, "goes away and I'm getting _everything_ I need and you are paying for _all_ of it."

Derek let out a sharp breath but didn't comment, so Stiles went on, "Also, we are getting my jeep back from Las Vegas."

"Fine."

"And just so there is no misunderstanding… this was one and _only_ time I'm covering for you. If you EVER…"

"Save your threats kid. They don't work on me," Derek cut him off, his self assured confidence back in place, "But disrespect can now earn you a demerit," he added with a hint of amusement.

"I think I should get a free pass on that for at least a couple of weeks," Stiles argued, his face heating a bit.

"No chance."

"One week?"

"No."

"Five days?"

Derek just raised an eyebrow.

"Four?"

"You are not getting a free pass, Stilinski. You will get your room and your jeep. And I suggest you shut up before I decide to start employing maintenance spankings."

"A what?"

"Who hasn't read the contract now?" Derek sneered as he crossed his arms on the chest, looking equal parts smug and arrogant.

Stiles actually did skip that bit. He cringed so hard when reading about childish punishments like corner time and lines, that he never even got to corporal punishment part. Having no actual argument he simply scowled at Derek and muttered a quiet "Dickhead."

Derek's smirk grew wider, "That's _One._"

* * *

_TBC_


	4. Baby steps

The next morning Stiles was very much _done_ with his sorry excuse for a room. At night he managed to kick several boxes on his way to the toilet, because why would anyone have a nightlight in their storeroom, right? He ended up toppling on top of them with a crash. The loud cursing managed to get even Derek out of bed, though the Alphahole refused to suffer through Stiles' complaining and once he saw that Stiles was fine, he growled his usual threats, issued a couple of demerits and went back to bed.

Be that as it may, Stiles was not gonna put up with this shit any longer. The dickhead promised him a room and if he doesn't sleep in proper one tonight, he will… he will… well, he didn't know what he will do, but something very terrible for sure.

He entered the kitchen in a combative mood ready for an argument, but his temper ran dry when instead of Derek, he found a young man with curly hair cooking something on the stove. He was wearing an apron and humming a familiar tune that was topping the charts lately.

"Ehem," Stiles cleared his throat, making his presence known.

"Stiles, good morning," the guy turned to him with a friendly smile, as he wiped his hand in the apron and offered it for a handshake, "I'm Isaac. I'm substituting Derek for the time being."

Stiles shook his hand confused at that introduction, "Substituting?"

"Some stuff came up, so he called me to babysit you." His tone was teasing, not a hint of dominance, so most probably a Beta.

Stiles realized that Isaac must have been that guy on the phone Derek was furious with the other night. He wondered what kind of relationship was between the two. Well, probably the kind that would make it ok for him to cook in Derek's kitchen...

"Are you and Derek, uhm," Stiles gesticulated with his hands nonsensically.

"Hm?"

"...together?"

"Oh, God no," the curlyhead exclaimed as if such suggestion was utterly ridiculous, "No, I'm a friend, just a friend." He eyed Stiles head to toe with curiosity and then broke into another teasing grin. "Don't worry, Derek is single, so he should be a faithful hubby to you," he said, winking at Stiles. "Come sit, I made you breakfast. I hope you like eggs."

"You made me breakfast?" Stiles echoed surprised.

"Yeah, Derek said you need some pampering."

_Come again?_

"Derek said I need _pampering_?"

Stiles' dumbstruck face must have looked comical, because Isaac chuckled, "Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"No seriously, Derek… as in _Derek Hale_, said I need _pampering_?"

"Well, not exactly in _those_ words…"

"And in _what_ words?"

"Hmm, something along the lines: 'Call me if he gives you trouble', but knowing Derek that means: 'Please be nice to him, cause I fucked up'."

Stiles shifted on his chair wondering just how much Derek told his friend about everything that happened.

As if reading his mind Isaac handed him a bottle of Advil. "For the sitting troubles," he explained, seeing Stiles's confused look.

_Well, that answers that question, _Stiles thought grimly, feeling the blood rush to his face in embarrassment.

"Oh, please, don't be embarrassed. I mean, trust me, been there done that," Isaac said, placing a hand on his chest.

It was true that many people didn't view getting punished as a big deal, treating it as an inherent part of their life. Except it never really was a part of Stiles's life. The Alphas in his life never laid a hand on him, even though some of them often threatened. Scott was probably the only person who ever came close to physically "talk some sense into him" when Stiles started dealing weed.

It would have been a completely mortifying experience for both of them, and knowing how much Scott would hate to do it and how awkward it would be for them later, Stiles managed to talk his way out of it with a promise of never dealing again.

The fact that he kept breaking that promise was a source of ever-present guilt for Stiles, but it didn't change anything. He needed money to pay for the dorm and he knew Scott was always tight with finances, especially now when the time-demanding veterinary studies left him no room for a part-time job.

Most months Stiles ended up covering the majority of costs, cooking up excuses and hiding the bills from his friend to allow him to pursue his dream profession. Stiles wasn't looking forward to telling Scott the truth knowing how furious he was probably going to be. At this point, Stiles would rather get another undue whipping from Derek, than to face Scott.

"So Derek has…" Stiles trailed off, not sure how to ask the Beta whether he was ever punished by his friend and how did he feel about it. In general, matters of discipline were more commonly kept within the family and between couples, but it wasn't unheard of for an Alpha to castigate a lower dynamic friend or even a coworker.

Isaac waited for Stiles to elaborate before realizing what he was asking about. "Oh no. God no! Never," he waved his hands, eyes wide, which could only mean that Isaac found such a scenario just as mortifying as Stiles did. "I don't think Derek ever disciplined _anyone_ before, actually. You had the privilege of being his 'first'."

Stiles had a hard time appreciating such honor and it must have shown on his face because Isaac chuckled and patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. He handed him the plate with scrambled eggs and fried bacon, which smelled so well that Stiles swallowed the biting remark that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Derek got his fair share on the receiving end though, growing up. But the Hales are a different breed altogether, a whipping is like a harsher tickling to them."

"Yeah well, I can't exactly relate," Stiles grumbled, scowling into his plate.

Isaac sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to excuse his behavior…"

"But you are going to."

"Derek is not a bad guy," he said, his face growing serious, "I owe him a great deal. He might be all glares and snarls, but once you get to know him…"

"He left me locked in the room for the whole day, so if you are about to tell me how nice and caring he is, save it," Stiles snapped not in the mood to hear about Derek's supposed good character traits.

Isaac scratched the back of his head with a guilty grimace, "Yeah, that might have been partially my fault. There was some business on Friday which Derek never showed up to, because he was busy getting married to you, and I couldn't... though Derek would probably say 'I didn't', uhm, anyway the opportunity presented itself again yesterday and shit got complicated…"

Stiles didn't understand any of what Isaac was saying, especially since the curlyhead obviously tried hard not to reveal some sensitive information, and frankly, Stiles wasn't really interested in hearing those excuses, "Yeah I don't really care what kind of business Derek had on Friday, or yesterday for that matter. You don't lock a person and leave!"

"Can't argue with that," Isaac agreed with a defeated shrug, "But if it makes any difference, I wouldn't be here right now if Derek didn't feel like shit about it."

It shouldn't have made a difference… but for some reason it did.

"And to be honest, you could do way worse than Derek. If you wanna see what an actual abusive Alpha looks like," Isaac rolled up his sleeve to reveal a multitude of burn marks on his forearm.

Stiles's eyes widened at the sight, his stomach twisting with a sickening feeling. "That's..?"

"Cigarettes. My father was a heavy smoker and he didn't always have an ashtray at hand," Isaac said chuckling at his own morbid humor, "But what can you do, he was an _artist_. The stuff he could paint with a cane on my back - timeless piece of art."

Stiles gulped not sure what to say. What could one say to that really?

"Growing up there weren't many days I spent not sore. There was always this or that...," Isaac trailed off probably recalling some nasty memory, "Keeping Advil on me became a habit."

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok, been a long time ago. At least now it got handy again," Isaac said pointing at the painkiller.

"I'm quite ok actually, barely feel it anymore." And Stiles wasn't exaggerating, the pain was pretty much gone, only a faint lingering feeling remained when he put his weight in certain positions, but nothing that would require medication.

"Make sure not to tell Derek then, you can milk this for a couple more days at least," Isaac said winking and Stiles couldn't help grinning back at him.

* * *

xxx

It turned out that pressing Derek to hold his end of the bargain was not necessary. The Alpha came back after lunch and released Isaac from his babysitting duty to take Stiles shopping. Before he left, Isaac suggested that they should take measurements of the room before purchasing furniture, which probably saved them a potential hell of a headache, if they spent the whole day shopping only to find at home that it didn't fit in the room.

"So where were you?" Stiles asked as they drove to the nearby IKEA.

Derek cast him a reproachful glance as if Stiles just asked the size of his underwear. "Work," he grumbled, returning his focus to the road.

"On Sunday?"

"Yes."

Stiles waited for Derek to elaborate, but when he didn't, he decided to change the topic, "I like Isaac. He is fun."

No reaction.

"He made me breakfast, then we hung out, watched TV, played Fortnite, Isaac sucks at it, by the way."

When Derek still kept silent, Stiles wondered how somebody as "normal" as Isaac could be a close friend of such a grumpy dick like Derek. "Wow, aren't you chatty today," he noted with sarcasm.

"_One_."

"Huh?" Stiles frowned in confusion.

"Demerit."

"What the fuck! What for?" he snapped scandalized.

"_Two_," Derek replied calmly.

Stiles opened his mouth to voice another loud objection, but then closed it again, guessing the outcome and looked out the window sulkily instead.

"You learn fast."

Stiles scowled at him, expecting to see that annoying arrogant smirk on the Alphahole, but Derek wasn't smirking, if anything, he just looked tired. Stiles decided not to provoke him further.

The parking lot of the IKEA on Sunday was, as usual, one big clusterfuck, with people running around carrying heavy boxes, while the drivers yelled at each other for snatching a parking spot or denying the right of way. Derek navigated himself with relative ease, sending his Alphaglares at anyone who dared to block his way. He sandwiched the car between two other SUVs leaving little to no space for anyone to open doors, but Stiles wisely kept his mouth shut and just squeezed himself out.

As soon as he got out, he heard an angry bark and before he had the chance to react, he was attacked by a vicious looking Stafford. Stiles let out a rather unmanly shriek as the dog bit the hem of his jeans and started yanking him forward. He landed on his ass painfully, scratching his palms and elbows against the concrete in an attempt to get away from the enraged canine.

A low growling sound came from somewhere behind him and the dog immediately let go. His hackles fell, the ears flattened, the dog whimpered pitifully cowering to the ground in a sign of submission. Stiles turned his head to see Derek's angry face, full fangs, eyes flashing crimson and felt an instinctive urge to bare his throat.

He experienced a weird sense of relief realizing the Alpha's ire was aimed at the dog and not at him. And yeah, judging by the Stafford's heart-wrenching whines, he was furiously regretting his actions now.

Derek didn't punish the dog with his angry dominance for long and soon crouched down next to Stiles opening his arms in an invitation for the dog to come forward. With his head ducked, the Stafford carefully approached the Alpha, still whining guiltily. Derek's features softened, face stretching in a warm smile as he petted the dog gently, murmuring "good boy" over and over with unfeigned affection.

Stiles felt an inexplicable pang of jealousy as he watched the unfolding scene. As much as he wouldn't want to be in the dog's 'shoes' half a minute ago, he had an odd desire to trade places with him right now. To bury his nose into that broad chest, to feel those strong arms around him offering warmth and protection, to hear those gentle words of praise meant only for his ears, to be Derek's 'good boy'.

_Whoa, hold on… where did this come from?_

"I'm sooo sorry, Sir!" the young Omega ran towards them, waving her hands, "Are you ok?" she asked them breathlessly before turning to the dog, "Dexter! Bad dog, bad dog!" she chided, though Dexter seemed to be largely unaffected by her scolding. Stiles wondered why would an Omega get herself such a demanding breed, and why on earth would she take the dog she can't handle to IKEA of all places.

Derek probably wondered the same, because he turned stern again. "The dog is not bad, but _you _should keep better watch over him. This is no place for a dog."

The woman flushed casting Derek a sheepish look. She put Dexter on the leash and with a couple more apologies walked away mumbling something about how 'Alex was gonna kill her'.

"Are you ok?" Derek asked Stiles as he helped him up, his eyes soft with a hint of concern, though Stiles might have imagined the latter.

"I'm fine, he didn't bite me," he replied, suddenly embarrassed to have been envious of the dog.

Derek must have misinterpreted his flushed look for the one of pain. "Are you hurt?" he asked and without waiting grabbed Stiles's hands and examined his scratched palms. This time Stiles definitely didn't imagine the concern that flicked in Derek's expression.

To think that the Alpha could deliver one hell of a strapping for some minor annoyance and then look like _this _over a couple of bruises... "I'm not," Stiles huffed attempting to jerk his hands away. But Derek didn't let him and the black liquid started pulsating through his veins, taking away the sting.

"Thanks," Stiles muttered, averting his gaze.

"_Three_."

Stiles opened his mouth ready to break into an indignant rant, but Derek cut him off.

"For lying," he said, smirking and Stiles wondered what came over him to entertain even for a second the idea of actually liking the Alphahole.

* * *

xxx

The shopping went slow, Stiles was bouncing from one bedroom set to another, checking and comparing and surprisingly enjoying himself, while Derek looked largely uninterested and increasingly annoyed. Stiles pointed at the most ridiculously looking piece just to get a reaction and was met with the same exasperated eye roll he was getting for all the previous suggestions.

It became obvious that Derek didn't really care about the looks or the money, he just wanted to get this over with. His patience ran dry after an hour of unproductive walking around.

"That's it Stilinski, you have exactly half an hour to get everything you need, then we are out of here."

"What? That was not the deal!"

"The deal was to furnish a room, not sightsee the local IKEA."

"But…" Stiles started to protest, but Derek was not having this argument.

He grabbed Stiles by the arm and leaned forward to hiss into his ear, "Would you like to find out, what it's like to get a spanking right in the middle of the store?"

Stiles blushed, unsure how serious Derek was about it. It sounded like an empty threat, but he wouldn't put it past the Alphahole to hit a new low by publicly humiliating him. Either way, he had no intention to find out. He yanked his arm out of Derek's grip with a scowl and hurried away, putting a safe distance between them, just in case. He did, however, pick up the pace considerably.

It still took him almost an hour to be done with everything, and by the end, Derek did look annoyed but he didn't comment. To his credit, he even carried most of the heavy boxes, both to the car and then upstairs to the apartment. It took several trips back and forth to get everything, and both of them were breathing heavily by the time all the boxes sat in Stiles' room. The 'only' thing left was to assemble...

"Good luck," Derek said sarcastically, ready to make a timely escape.

Stiles shut the door swiftly, expecting this all along. "Where do you think you are going?"

The Alpha tilted his head, folding his arms on the chest, "You might want to rephrase that, kid." Stiles had no doubt that it was not a request but a threat, however, he remained unswayed by Derek's attempted intimidation.

"You are not leaving me to assemble all this alone," he replied firmly.

"I'm not?"

"We have a deal," Stiles reminded him.

"I don't remember signing up for the jigsaw torture."

_'Live or Die, make your choice,' _Kramer's voice echoed in Stiles' head. _How fitting._

"You promised me a room, and so far it's just a bunch of boxes." Which was kinda farcical given they only just cleared the room of the old ones, moving most of them to the basement.

"Fine, I'll call Isaac."

"It's you who owes me, not him."

"Well, _he_ owes _me_," Derek snapped, taking his phone out.

"Alright, he can help, but you are still absolutely doing this."

After a glaring contest, at which Stiles was surprisingly holding his ground, Derek gave another exaggerated eye roll and barked, "Fine!"

* * *

xxx

Sitting in his newly furnished room Stiles allowed himself a satisfied grin. This definitely beat his dorm at Uni and even his room back at home in Beacon Hills. The dark wood was elegant and modern, the dim lighting giving it a cozy feel. He had everything he needed - a new giant bed with comfy mattresses and fresh bedsheets, a wardrobe, a small dresser, a desk, an office chair, a small sofa, some shelves, and even a couple of paintings on the walls.

Despite Isaac's help putting everything together took them all day and by the time Isaac was leaving (more like crawling) home, Stiles was ready to fall asleep on spot. However, he desperately needed a shower and perhaps he could put on the washing machine since he had plenty of laundry by now.

He went to ask Derek, where to find the washing powder and was stopped dead in his tracks by the door when he saw the Alpha take off his bathrobe, standing there butt naked. I mean, Stiles already knew that his fake husband was hot, but _damn_… Watching that perfectly sculpted body, that would put all of those Hollywood machos to shame, did _things_ to Stiles…

Derek was having his back to him, as he quickly dressed into his sleep shorts, but not before giving Stiles a glimpse of all the juicy parts. Stiles's gaze traveled all over his body and then lingered on the tattoo. _Huh?_

"Enjoying the view?" Derek asked without turning his head. Unlike Stiles, who went fifty shades of red at being caught staring, he seemed quite unstirred by his lack of clothing.

"I, uhm…" Stiles struggled to remember what it was that he came here for.

Derek put on a t-shirt and finally turned to face him, tilting his head with his usual 'you're pissing me off' glare, "What do you want?"

"So you are one of those?"

Derek raised an annoyed eyebrow at him waiting for Stiles to elaborate.

"Well, you know, _Hzaaah_," he imitated a swooshing sound, snapping an imaginary whip, "_Thank you, Master, may I have another?" _he chirped in a high pitched voice of a feminine Omega, _"Hzaaah_, _Thank you, Master, may I have another? Hzaaah, Than..._"

"Damn Stilinski, I think you suffered brain trauma. Did you hit your head while I was in the shower?"

"Nice try changing the topic, I saw your tattoo," Stiles replied smugly.

"And?"

"It's the symbol for kinky people."

Derek furrowed his brows in confusion, "What?"

"Well, this yin yang but with three parts."

"Triskelion?"

"See, you know it."

"Ok, now I get it," Derek nodded with understanding, "Not head trauma, you were simply born an idiot."

"You're still deflecting."

"Google the BDSM triskelion, moron," Derek said waiting for Stiles to grab his phone, and then turned around and pulled up his t-shirt to show the tattoo... And yeah, the two symbols were kinda different after all.

"Oh," Stiles exhaled, blushing.

"Word of advice, stop projecting your lewd fantasies onto me."

"I wasn't! You just…" but Derek didn't let him finish.

"Unless this was your way of asking for another whipping, just so that you can thank me prettily for every lash?"

Stiles felt the imaginary steam coming out of his ears. "Fuck you, Derek... Just… just fuck you!"

He quickly turned around and vamoosed, before the Alpha gave him any more hard time for his unfortunate blooper. Closing the door behind him he heard a sound that suspiciously resembled laughter, but he must have been hearing things, cause he was pretty sure Derek Hale was not capable of that particular human emotion.

* * *

_TBC_


	5. Skater boy

Stiles had classes on Monday but still no jeep. He checked the bus schedules and truth be told, there was a connection to uni with one change, but it would take almost an hour, while the car drive was only 15 minutes, therefore Stiles compelled Derek into giving him a lift again.

Not without a fight, of course. Derek's cup of care for Stiles's commuting problems was as empty as ever, so Stiles had to employ his manipulation skills, reminding the Responsible Alpha that it will be his head on the line shall Stiles's fail to attend his classes.

Derek growled his usual threats about ripping all his limbs out and whatnot but begrudgingly agreed to drive him to uni and to cut his work early to pick Stiles up and go back to Vegas to fetch his jeep. It felt almost too easy, Stiles definitely expected more resistance from him, but perhaps Derek finally decided to stop being difficult and listen to reason.

Either way, right now Stiles had another Alpha to fret over - Scott. The determination to come clean, with which he woke up that morning, was disappearing with exponential progression. He had the first two classes to garner his courage, but the third one was a joint class, which meant that he will be sitting side by side with Scott and unless he came up with an excuse not to talk to him, he will have to spill the beans.

And yeah, when the time came he chickened out saying he was struggling with this particular subject and had to pay attention. Unfortunately, the extra 90 minutes did nothing to improve Stiles's nerves and as soon as the professor ended the lecture, he jumped mumbling something about having to go and took off before Scott had a chance to chip in another word.

_Fucking coward!_ Stiles berated himself, shaking head at his pathetic wimpiness. He rushed outside scanning the road and locating Derek's black Edge. The Alpha was casually leaning against the car, hands in his pockets, dressed all in black, with a tight t-shirt hugging his muscled chest and black sunglasses on his face.

To say he was a chick magnet would be an understatement because he was an _everything _magnet. The nearby students, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike, kept sending him curious (and some downright flirtatious) glances, but Derek seemed to be rather uninterested, though with the sunglasses covering his eyes Stiles couldn't be sure. In any case, he experienced an unaccountable sense of pride for being the one the Prince Charming was waiting for.

"Stiles, wait," came Scott's voice from behind him.

_Dammit._

"Sorry, I.. uh... Derek's waiting for me," Stiles replied, pointing at the Alpha with an apologetic shrug.

Scott frowned, his face a cocktail of emotions with hurt and concern prevalent - something Stiles was largely defenseless against.

"Come on, buddy, I'm really worried here," he pressed, "You disappeared, didn't reply to any of my messages and then came back with a… well, _him,_ and then just moved out? What am I supposed to think?"

"I'm fine, Scott."

"You are avoiding me, you look uncomfortable and you are acting weird!" Scott said firmly, before taking Stiles by the shoulders in an attempt to get eye contact. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Scott…"

"What were you doing in Vegas?" there was a sharp edge in his tone as if he already knew the answer.

Stiles grimaced, realizing that there was no point in denying it any further. "Selling weed."

The lack of surprise in Scott's expression confirmed that he suspected it all along. "To him?" he asked sternly, hinting at Derek.

"No, I mean, yes... It's complicated," Stiles stammered awkwardly.

The sheer disappointment in Scott's face was worse than a potential beating could ever be. "_Why_, Stiles? Why would you do that? Man, I thought you understood!"

"Scott…"

"Drugs, Stiles? What would your father say to that?"

A low blow. Albeit deserved. But still low.

"Nothing, because he is not gonna find out," Stiles stressed.

It's not that Scott didn't hear the obvious warning undertone, he just chose to ignore it. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"You ain't telling him!"

"And why do you think I …"

"Because somebody has to pay the bills, Scott!" Stiles snapped in exasperation.

Scott's expression changed with shock and confusion. "What?"

"Nothing." Stiles turned around eager to take his leave, fearing he said one thing too many, but Scott was having none of it. He spun Stiles around and grabbed him by the collar.

"Oh no, you tell me right now, what the fuck was that supposed to mean!" he bellowed.

A heavy hand dropped on Scott's shoulder. "Hands off," came a threatening growl which Stiles immediately recognized as Derek's.

_When did he get here?_

Scott cast him a quick side glance and then looked back at Stiles, "Stay out of this, it doesn't concern you," he retorted.

Stiles saw how Derek's eyes darkened dangerously and knew it was a telltale sign of Derek getting physical. Before he had a chance to warn Scott, his friend yelped in pain and jumped away from him, rubbing his shoulder with a wince.

"Yes it does," Derek said, positioning himself between Scott and Stiles.

Stiles couldn't help marveling at the absurdity of the situation. To think that Derek, _Derek(!),_ of all people would be the one "protecting" Stiles from his best friend - a big teddy bear that Scott generally was? It would make way more sense if their places were reversed and it was Scott jumping to his defense against the Alphahole.

"What the fuck! Who the hell do you think you are?!" Scott fumed, throwing his hands in indignation.

"His husband."

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"You... wha.. What?!" Scott's astounded eyes flicked back and forth between Stiles and Derek.

_Yup. That went well._

"Yeah… he is. But not like you think. The sale went _wrong_," he tried not to look at Derek as he said that, "and we got arrested and charged with possession and dealing." Seeing Scott's expression, Stiles quickly reassured him, "No, no, it's fine, we were offered an alternative, which is this Beta Rehabilitation Program, you know, the one from TV, so yeah, now we are kinda stuck together for at least half a year."

Stiles waited for Scott to give some kind of acknowledgment, but his friend looked just as confused as before. "I don't understand, why would…"

"Oh for heaven's sake, can you deal with your melodrama some other time? I don't have all day, Stilinski!" Derek snapped like a perfect Alphahole he was.

Stiles scowled at him, but Derek was already going back to the car, not waiting for him.

"Look, I'm sorry, I promise I'm ok and I'll tell you everything tomorrow, alright? Just don't tell anyone. Especially my dad! Promise me!"

Scott gave him a long look before nodding his head. The sound of the car horn reminded them of Derek's lack of basic human decorum.

Stiles rolled his eyes and then cast his friend a quick grateful smile, "Thank you! I promise, I'll explain everything," he called as he hurried to the car before Derek lost his patience and threatened him with something embarrassing.

The car ride to Vegas was a quiet affair for the most part. Stiles was mulling over his encounter with Scott, wondering what possessed Derek to intervene, and on his behalf no less.

"You didn't have to hurt him," he said, finally breaking the silence. Derek didn't reply so Stiles went on, feeling the need to defend his friend, "Scott has every right to be mad at me."

"That may be so, but he has no right to lay a finger on you," Derek replied firmly.

Stiles found this to be rather hypocritical coming from Derek, but he refrained from pointing it out. "Even if he did, I would have deserved it," he said instead.

"The only person who determines what you _do_ and _do not_ deserve is me. If Scott has a problem with you, he will have to take it up with me first."

Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that statement. It sounded profoundly arrogant and oddly protective at the same time and the latter produced a warm fuzzy feeling inside him.

* * *

xxx

The next couple of days went without incident, which could be accounted to the fact that Stiles and Derek didn't actually see each other much. With his jeep back, Stiles didn't need Derek to drive him around anymore. After classes, he usually hung out with Scott for a bit and then went home, where he mostly kept to his room. Derek was coming home later in the evening and sometimes they shared dinner, during which Stiles ranted away about his day and Derek listened with feigned disinterest or growl something sarcastic.

All in all, Stiles' situation improved considerably compared to the first days. He got a nice room, his jeep, he talked things through with Scott (or rather received a hell of a lecture, apologized and they moved on). He even started to get used to his grumpy dick of a husband slowly learning to distinguish the bark from the bite. That's not to say that there was no bite, because Stiles experienced a hell of a bite the very first evening, but since then Derek kept his hands mostly to himself, and apart from a couple of rather domineering grabs, he didn't get physical again and usually just barked out the demerits.

Quite soon it became obvious that the whole demerit system was kinda bull. Derek used it randomly, often to simply annoy Stiles, regardless of whether Stiles was being rude or did anything at all. He never went above 3 though, and they never actually discussed what horrible consequence would be there if he ever reached 5 (though it was kind of a no-brainer), so Stiles soon realized that all the counting was just Derek being a dick and that he never actually intended to punish Stiles for coarse language or any other petty transgressions.

So Stiles went on and got himself in _real_ trouble.

Not on purpose, of course, getting in a traffic accident could hardly ever be on purpose. But damn! That kid came out of nowhere! What was he thinking skating right across the street without looking!

Stiles groaned in pain checking his arms and brushing the broken glass off of them. His forehead throbbed and he could feel the swelling bump growing under his fingers. _Ouch_. And blood. _Fuck_. He looked at his bloodied fingers and the sight made him lightheaded. The windshield was shattered, fumes coming from the car hood which was bent around the tree Stiles just crushed against. Oh no, his poor jeep!

"Hey, you alive?"

Stiles turned his head to see the frightened kid looking at him through the window of the passenger seat. The boy was pale, eyes wide and voice trembling. Stiles must have looked like shit with blood all over his face, his arms covered in cuts and leftover glass.

"I think so," he croaked grimacing. "Just need to figure out if my hands and legs still work."

The kid ran around the car to his side and opened the door, which gave a creak of protest. "Man, you better get out of here! What if the car blows up?!"

The alarming urgency behind the boy's words sent Stiles into an irrational fit of panic. "Fuck!" He fumbled with the seatbelt and all but fell out of the car, crawling away from it on all four rather disgracefully.

The brain kicked back in when they got in a safe distance for the potential blast, which of course, never came.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," he observed, feeling stupid for giving in to the stupid Hollywood-like scenario. But hey, he got hit in the head, he had an excuse. He sat down on the sidewalk and the boy followed his example, sending him worried glances.

"You alright, kid?" Stiles asked, finally taking a good look at him.

The skater boy looked like an early teen of 12 or so, the backwards baseball cap, baggy clothes and a fresh shiner under his eye giving him a rebellious street look. Stiles palmed his chin to examine the blackeye and figured the kid must have already had it before.

The boy flushed, shaking off Stiles' hand. "I'm fine."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, feeling the adrenalin levels subsiding, he allowed his anger to shine through. "Not for long, mister, because once I get my hands on you…"

"You should keep your hands to yourself, you look like you are about to pass out any second," the boy parried, not particularly worried.

As if to prove the kid right, a fresh wave of a headache hit him anew and Stiles groaned palming his forehead again. The boy was still a Beta, though already one could tell that he will become an Alpha soon. Which hardly mattered, to Stiles he was just a punk who almost got them both killed with his recklessness.

"What were you thinking? Do you have a deathwish? I almost ran you over!" Stiles berated him, surprised at how stern his voice came out, all things considered.

The boy had the decency to appear ashamed as he hung his head down, studying his fingernails. "Sorry, I didn't mean to cause an accident."

"Parents never taught you how to cross the street?" Stiles went on, ignoring the apology.

"They did," the kid gulped, his voice getting constrained.

"Well, they might have to revise that particular lesson, as it looks like they didn't do a very good job!"

"They're dead," the boy whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Stiles winced, wishing he kept his mouth shut for once. _Real smooth, Stiles. Badmouth an orphan's parents some more, would you?_ "Shit. Sorry."

The teen didn't reply, just brushed the tear off his cheek angrily.

"What's your name?" Stiles asked to change the uncomfortable topic.

"Liam."

"I'm Stiles," he introduced himself offering a hand. The kid looked at it cringing and Stiles realized it was covered in blood. The sight sent a wave of nausea and he reeled backwards but was caught by Liam's arm.

"Eazy, man. The ambulance should be here soon," the boy reassured him.

"Thanks," Stiles replied finding equilibrium and then resting his elbows on his knees. The silence fell between them. The blood was still running down Stiles' forehead and he swiped it away with a hem of his t-shirt.

"I'm really sorry," Liam said, watching Stiles guiltily.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, the gesture must have been sudden because Liam flinched away as if Stiles was about to strike him. Stiles frowned at this unreasonable reaction. "How did you get that bruise?" he asked the boy, narrowing his eyes.

Liam didn't reply, but the way he tensed was kinda telling. However before Stiles could press him further, the sound of sirens sent the boy to his feet.

"Have to go."

"What?! Wait you have to give a statement!" Stiles tried to stop him.

"Sorry," the kid called, as he ran away before the police cars came into view.

* * *

xxx

Stiles didn't expect Yukimura to appear quite so soon. Pretty much as soon as the doctor finished stitching up his forehead (which hurt like a motherfucker, in case you were wondering), Kira was by his side firing up questions like a hungry journalist.

Stiles wondered if she was even listening to his answers as he pretty much parrotted the statement he gave the police, "No, I didn't see him.", "Yes, I was wearing the seatbelt.", "No I wasn't using the phone, or changing the radio, I just didn't see him.", "No I didn't imagine him, he ran away.", "How should I know!?", "I know the airbag doesn't work.", "Jesus, Kira, give me a break!"

She didn't. But she changed gears, inquiring about his home life and their progress on the BRP. Which was arguably even worse, because apart from Derek offering him a job, they didn't do shit to "rehabilitate" and "socialize" Stiles back to be "an honorable member of society". She seemed quite displeased, but didn't admonish him, instead, she reminded him that on Saturday there will be a BRP group session, which he and Derek should attend.

By the time, Derek made it to the hospital, Stiles was almost glad to see him, if just to get a reprieve from Yukimura, who immediately switched her attention to the Alpha, commenting on him "taking his sweet time". That's when Stiles realized that she had been actually holding back on him and that Derek was in for it big time.

He was soon proved right when she dragged Derek to the adjoining room and gave him a proper dressing down, which Stiles was probably not meant to hear, but having his ear planted on the door, it was hard not to.

Stiles was pretty sure Derek didn't get such treatment very often, if ever. To be honest, Kira was being completely unreasonable, berating him for just about everything as if it was his fault Stiles ran into the tree, got hurt, his car didn't have an airbag, and his story was unconvincing at best. With no witnesses to prove the existence of the skater boy, it was just Stiles running a tree - aka causing a traffic accident, which for some inexplicable reason was a huge shortcoming of the RA. For the first time, Stiles felt genuinely bad for Derek. That was up until Kira suggested he should _do something_ about it.

"What, you expect me to punish him for getting in a traffic accident?" he heard Derek's objection.

"You are the _Responsible _Alpha, emphasis on 'responsible'. If you can't guarantee his safety and wellbeing, you are not doing a very good job. If it means you won't let him out of your sight or spank him at every opportunity, that's up to you, though if you ask _me,_ recklessness definitely warrants an action."

Stiles scowled at the door, barely keeping himself from storming in and yelling something very rude.

"Well, it's a good thing then, that you are not the one _responsible_ for him," Derek growled.

"You might change your mind when you find out that BRP issued a 5 thousand dollar fine," she shot back, "You might not get another warning, Derek."

"Duly noted."

"And start on the Program for god's sake. Stiles is running out of excuses for you."

Stiles didn't hear what Derek replied because he had to run back to his bed before the door opened.

"Get well, Stiles. And please be more careful in the future," Kira said sending him a sympathetic smile.

Stiles had to bite his tongue not to call her out on being a two-faced bitch and just nodded.

She left and it was just him and Derek, who looked as grim as one could expect. For a moment, no one said anything, then Stiles mustered his courage and sneaked a careful glance at the Alpha.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" Derek regarded him with a mix of sarcasm and irritation, "You have quite a list, starting with eavesdropping on private conversations."

"I... How…?"

Derek tilted his head as if hinting just how stupid Stiles was, "Call it my Alpha senses," he sneered pointing at his ears, "But even if I couldn't hear you running away from the door, your guilty face just confirmed it."

Stiles flushed, feeling stupid for getting caught. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "And I'm sorry about the fine. It's ridiculous, and obviously not your fault."

Derek didn't say anything, which was way more unnerving than if he just started yelling at him. The silence was becoming so daunting that Stiles decided to address the elephant in the room himself.

"Are you going to… you know..?" he asked, biting his lip in trepidation.

"Discipline you? If I believed for a second whipping your ass would make you less accident-prone, you'd already be hollering apologies under my belt."

Stiles cringed at the gruesome wording but was relieved that the Alpha was in fact not intending to act on it.

"How are you feeling?" Derek inquired, his features softening the tiniest bit.

"They dosed me with painkillers, so not nearly as bad as I'm probably going to once they wear out."

"What did the doctor say?"

"CT scan didn't show anything but he said I might have a mild concussion. I'm free to go, just have to take it easy and rest a couple of days."

"Let's go then."

* * *

xxx

When they got home, Derek didn't allow Stiles to retreat to his room (as he usually did) and forced him to rest on the couch in the living room instead. Supposedly to 'keep an eye on him' while Derek worked. Stiles didn't protest, still on the guilt trip over the whole thing.

"I swear, the kid was there, I didn't make him up. His name is Liam."

"Doesn't matter," the Alpha replied, without taking his eyes off the computer screen.

"But you do believe me, right?" Stiles pressed.

"I don't care."

Stiles was stung quite a bit by Derek's dismissal. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him, that the Alpha believed him, but it did. His sulky silence must have indicated as much because Derek sighed and finally looked at him.

"It doesn't matter if there was a kid who jumped in front of your car or not. Accidents happen and whether it's a skater boy, a stray cat, or sun in your face, makes no difference. In most cases, it's also totally avoidable if you just pay proper attention.

"I _was_ paying attention," Stiles argued, pouting.

Before Derek could reply, there was a knock on the door. Stiles went to answer it and was surprised to see Derek's uncle.

"Stiles!" Peter greeted him cheerfully and then frowned, "Damn, you look like shit." He didn't wait for an invitation to come in and strolled past Stiles unabashedly.

"Derek, what's with the long face? You look worse than Stiles… and that's saying something."

"Must be the excitement of seeing you here," Derek deadpanned without a hint of a smile.

Stiles kept hovering by the door unsure whether he was supposed to excuse himself to give the men some privacy, or if he was still under orders to rest in the living room.

Peter snorted, sitting himself on the sofa. "Nice place you have here. Simple, modest and kinda sad, fits you greatly though," he sneered, as he made himself comfortable, stretching his legs.

The humor was lost on Derek, who regarded him with cold disdain. "What do you want?"

"Coffee would be nice," Peter replied smiling at Stiles, who took it as his cue to leave the unpleasantly tense atmosphere.

"No, what do you want here?" Derek growled, stopping Stiles from serving his uncle.

"Where are your manners, Derek? What kind of example are you setting for Stiles?" Peter chided mockingly, but Derek refused to get provoked and just stared at him expectantly. "I actually wanted to speak with Stiles."

Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Me?"

"Yes, privately."

"Not happening," Derek retorted, "Say what you must and go."

Peter sighed, dropping the dickish charade for a split second, the real emotions shining through the pretense. Stiles already guessed that their relationship must have been pretty complicated, and now he saw that unlike Derek, Peter seemed to be quite bothered by it.

Stiles couldn't help wondering what happened between the two. As far as he knew they were the only living members of the Hale family left after the fire. One would think, that they will stick together after all the hardships. Yet Derek was colder towards his uncle than he was even towards Stiles.

"Sorry kid, I tried," Peter told Stiles apologetically and then took out a small plastic bag and placed it on the table in front of them. There were two carefully wrapped joints inside and Stiles blanched, immediately realizing where Peter got those. "These were taken by police out of the glove compartment of Stiles' jeep."

"Oh my God!" Stiles wheezed, covering his mouth in horror, "I totally forgot about those!"

"You forgot? You fucking IDIOT!" Derek bellowed, his eyes flashing darkly.

"Calm down, Derek," Peter's voice hardened and for the first time, Stiles was reminded of the fact that he was an Alpha and quite an intimidating one. "Thankfully I was at the scene and persuaded officer Walker not to file that particular finding for a small financial compensation."

Stiles felt as if a boulder fell off his chest and he could breathe again._ Damn, that was a close one._

"Next time you might not be as lucky," Peter told him sternly and Stiles gulped, his cheeks reddening at the subtle reprimand.

"How much?" Derek snapped reaching for his wallet.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not telling you to get money!" Peter retorted appalled.

"Of course not, it's never as easy with you. So what do you want?"

"How about, I don't want to see my nephew behind bars again?" Peter replied, visibly annoyed with this exchange. He turned to Stiles again, "You better not fuck this up, kid. The Hale family is not known to be _forgiving_. If you care about your friends and family..."

"Save your threats, Peter," Derek cut him off sharply.

Whoa. Did Stiles think Derek was scary? The Alphahole had nothing on his uncle. For all the growling and snarling Derek did, he has never threatened Stiles' loved ones! When Peter put the weed on the table, Stiles regretted not dealing with this privately like Peter wanted, but now he was actually glad for Derek's presence.

"Just a fair warning," Peter told Stiles with a smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes. He got up and walked to the door. "Good talk, let's do this again sometime," he joked, winking at Stiles and left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the deafening silence fell between them. If Derek's clenched jaw was anything to go by, the Alpha was properly pissed. Stiles wondered if he has officially depleted his free passes. After all, leaving weed in his car was no accident, it was sheer stupidity, which could have led to dire consequences for both of them.

"I'm sorry," he offered timidly.

Derek glared at him. "Are you?"

"I swear it's from before. I simply forgot about them."

"Oh really? And here I thought you were eager to go to jail. Do you think the circumstances will matter to the BRP committee? Brainless fucking teenager!"

Stiles didn't dare to correct him, that he was 20, therefore, could no longer count as a teenager. Getting smart with Derek at his current predicament would be highly unwise.

"I'm sorry, Derek."

"So you've said. Multiple times," the Alpha fumed, shaking his head.

"And I mean it, I will be smarter, I promise."

Derek regarded him, the inner battle clear on his face. Stiles attempted his best "promise to be good" puppy-eyed look, which must have worked because after a while Derek sighed tiredly. "Last chance, Stilinski," he said pointing a finger at Stiles, "Shape the fuck up and start using that brain of yours, or I'll start providing you with a daily incentive."

Stiles had to restrain himself not to grin. It wouldn't do to appear anything but properly chastened after such a threat. Lest Derek decided to give him a taste.

"I understand. I won't fuck up again," he promised, nipping at the bump on his forehead absentmindedly.

"How's your head?"

"Drugs are wearing out," Stiles said, wincing at the dull ache.

Derek palmed his hand and eased his pain right away, which earned him a bit surprised but a very grateful smile.

Stiles didn't expect Derek to help with his pain, especially after what just happened. Perhaps things were really getting better between them? All things considered, Stiles got out of the whole mess rather unscathed. To think that If not for Peter they might have been both facing Yukimura right now. And yet Derek didn't seem to be as appreciative of his uncle's interference. Feeling bold, Stiles decided to address it.

"Uhm, I know it is none of my business, but why do you hate your uncle so much? I mean he just saved us, paid off an officer and came to warn us and you were ready to kick him out without as much as a thank you."

"You are correct," Derek nodded in acknowledgment and for a moment there Stiles thought that he was going to indulge him, but that was not the case. "It is none of your business," Derek confirmed, his tone cold and cutting.

_Sigh. Back to square one._

"Oh, and you are grounded."

_Fuck._

* * *

_TBC_


	6. Ruby

_Author's note: Upgrading the rating to M. No smut just yet, but I get a tad too suggestive already, so keeping it on the safe side._

_Also shoutout to my faithful guest reviewer RubyB, who has been supporting my stories and never getting any personal thanks. So I went and (sorta) planted you into the story as a sign of appreciation, lol._

* * *

Stiles had only marginally more experience with grounding than he had with corporal punishment, growing up. His dad had attempted to ground him quite often, though usually after a couple of hours spent in his room, when the anger over whatever Stiles did started subsiding, Stiles activated his "sweet contrite boy" technique and talked himself out of further punishment.

With Derek the situation was different. It's not that Stiles even had to talk himself out of anything, there was simply nothing to change in his routine that could count as an effective grounding. He already stayed mostly in his room and Derek couldn't confiscate his phone nor his laptop, because of the uni projects. So the only thing Derek could do was cut down his time with Scott and have Isaac pick him up right after classes.

_Well, boohoo_. As if hanging out with Isaac could count as a punishment, to begin with.

Of course, Stiles was smart enough to keep his inner mockery over Derek's failed punishment to himself. He was pretty sure the Alpha spat it in the heat of the moment, without giving it much thought.

When Isaac picked him up in the morning to give him a lift, Stiles tried to question the Beta what happened between Peter and Derek, but Isaac said that if Derek refused to tell him, it was not his place to say anything on the matter.

Isaac might have been a total opposite of Derek when it came to… well pretty much anything, but he seemed to be fiercely loyal to the Alpha nonetheless. Stiles could relate to that and didn't push him, respecting those boundaries.

When they arrived, they saw Scott waiting for him on the park bench. He looked at Stiles frowning at his forehead. Isaac jumped out of the car to introduce himself, but Scott regarded him with undisguised cold hostility.

"Whoa, don't shoot, I come in peace," Isaac joked, holding up his palms.

"Scott, this is Isaac. Remember I told you about him," Stiles said, trying to dispel whatever misconception Scott must have been constructing about him.

"Oh, sorry, Scott McCall," Scott held out his hand, grinning sheepishly.

"Now that's a smile I could see more often," Isaac cooed, taking his hand. Scott blushed, not accustomed to being on the receiving end of the compliments. The handshake dragged out as the two just kept smiling at each other.

After 30 seconds Stiles cleared his throat, waving his hand, "Ehem, Hello? I'm still here."

"What time do you finish?" Isaac asked, ignoring Stiles.

"Three-thirty," Scott replied, without taking his eyes off the Beta.

"I'll pick you up then?"

"Sure."

Stiles couldn't believe what he was seeing. This must have been the fastest hook-up in the history of hook-ups.

"No Isaac, you have to drive me home, remember?" he reminded the Beta.

"Take a bus," Isaac replied matter-of-factly, while still eye-fucking Scott.

"What? No!"

"You'll be fine," the curlyhead said, not at all concerned about Stiles' commuting problems, then he winked at Scott, "I'll be waiting here. See you soon, sunshine." And just like that, he was gone.

Stiles watched as Scott's gaze followed Isaac all the way to the car with a stupid amorous grin plastered on his face.

"What was that?"

Scott just shrugged, simpering like a schoolgirl, "He liked my smile."

Stiles rolled his eyes demonstratively, but couldn't help smiling back at his friend.

* * *

xxx

The bus ride left much to be desired, what with waiting half an hour for the connection with a couple of elder Alphas who kept sending him strict assessing staredowns, as if he had a "hooligan" written on his battered forehead. He would very much prefer to spend that time in Scott's and Isaac's company, but he was not a cockblock… not to mention, he wasn't exactly invited.

Oh well, at least getting home early will give him more Derek-free time, which could be used for whatever activity the Alpha would deem not grounding-compliant. Stiles could think of several options, but given the circumstances, one of them seemed to be a clear winner for any guy above the age of fifteen.

Porn.

Living in close proximity to the Adonis himself, and not get an erection whenever the Alpha breached his personal space (which Derek did alarmingly often), was pretty much a feat of strength, supported by a regular diligent jerk off. And for once Stiles could actually watch with proper volume. Armed with lube and a box of paper tissues, he made himself comfortable on the bed and fired up his laptop.

Against his will, his mind traveled back to the naked Derek in all his Alphahole glory, every inch of that perfectly ripped body emitting strength and dominance - the picture that imprinted itself forever into Stiles's dirty mind. It was no surprise that Stiles confused Derek's tattoo with BDSM triskelion, the Alpha fitted the profile of a demanding sadistic Top to boot.

It's not that Stiles would watch exclusively BDSM porn, no, his tastes ranged from softcore to hardcore F/F, M/F, M/M alike, but right now he was in the mood for something particular and before long the room was filled with the sounds of the flogger striking bare skin and a young twink-looking Omega moaning in pain and pleasure.

Stiles was so engrossed in the act that when the door opened he didn't even notice it. That was till his half-closed eyes fell on Derek's dumbfounded face and Stiles's hand froze on his twitching cock. It didn't help, that the porn scene moved on to sex and the telltale slapping sound of a hard pounding was coming from his laptop, accompanied by cheesy one-liners like "Take your Master's cock like a good boy" or "You will not come, until I say so".

The momentary shocked silence was broken when Stiles finally found his voice and yelled, "Get out!"

Thankfully Derek did exactly that, but not before his lips twitched in an amused knowing smirk.

Stiles didn't know whether to be angry or mortified. Leave it to the dickhead to suddenly come home in the middle of the day and barge into his room without a care in the world. And while he was pretty sure Derek was no stranger to masturbation himself, being caught watching porn was still pretty embarrassing.

Stiles quickly finished himself off, which by now ended up being rather unsatisfying. He cleaned up, and went to throw away the mess and wash his hands, but stopped midway suddenly reluctant to leave his room.

_Fucking Derek!_

He couldn't stay in his room forever though, so after the initial feeling of humiliation abated some, he made his way to the bathroom.

"Wow, Stilinski, that took you quite some time!" Derek said, emerging in the doorway, "I was starting to get worried, thought maybe I should come help you."

_God forbid the Alphahole had a grain of tactfulness in him._

Stiles scowled at him, "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"In my own apartment? Not a chance," Derek replied arrogantly.

"Well, I live here now! So you better learn to respect my fucking privacy or else I…" Stiles trailed off.

"Or else you what, Stilinski? Do tell, this is gonna be interesting," Derek pressed, enjoying himself a bit too much.

Not finding anything to effectively threaten the Alpha with, Stiles snapped his usual, "Fuck you!"

Derek's grin turned devilishly suggestive, "Now, now, Stiles. Let's not pretend that in those wet dreams of yours you are anything but the _bottom_. Taking it like a _good boy_," Derek purred breaching Stiles's personal space again.

Stiles pushed past him angrily (but not before blushing like a tomato). "Fu… Scre… Go to hell! Just, drop dead, Derek!" he finally found something that Derek couldn't throw back in his face, and stomped back to his room.

"That's _One,_" Derek called after him.

"I don't CARE!" Stiles shouted and before he slammed the door he heard Derek's laughing voice chaffing "Then it's _Two"._

* * *

xxx

Stiles managed to successfully avoid Derek for the rest of Friday and the first half of Saturday. Unfortunately, there was this stupid BRP group session they were supposed to attend together. For anything else, Stiles would be happy for a reprieve from his grounding, but he had a feeling this was not going to be anything particularly enjoyable.

And then he found out that he will be in fact going alone because Derek had some work emergency. The BRP thing was within walking distance, so Stiles' didn't object. He didn't know what to expect since Yukimura didn't say much on the subject, but he had a general idea, what group therapy was like, from pop culture. _Hello, I'm Stiles and I'm an alcoholic, _kind of thing.

It turned out he wasn't that far off. The conference room resembled a classic classroom with chairs and desks, while BRP official called Betas to "the blackboard" to "speak to the class". There was a sense of voluntarism because Betas could refuse to speak, but most of them didn't and the reluctant ones got up after their Alphas gave them a strict nudge.

The only thing Stiles did that day was standing up and introducing himself. That part was obligatory and everyone did that at the start of the session. It turned out that most Betas had quite similar crimes, ranging from drug dealing to theft and minor assault. He was the only newcomer, everyone else seemed to be quite comfortable in their routine, knowing one another and just going through the motions describing their days, their problems and sometimes their discipline.

"Hi, I'm Erica and I'm an addict," the tall blonde introduced herself and was immediately smacked on the butt by the black stern-looking dude sitting next to her. She didn't even blush. "Sorry, wrong group," she said and received another smack right away. Her Alpha gave her a 'cut the crap' look, but she didn't seem the least bit concerned.

Stiles would be quite mortified to be spanked in a room full of people and wondered just how common this was.

"Here we go again," the Beta next to him muttered under his breath. When he saw that Stiles overheard him, he explained, "She puts up a brat act every session. She loves the attention."

Stiles was surprised that anyone would want this kind of attention, but hey, people had weird kinks. "So is this common? Somebody getting punished on spot?" he asked.

"With her, yes. With some others as well, though they definitely don't enjoy it as she does. Most would get it at home later though. Unless you do something big or fail the urine test, in which case the BRP official will demand your Alpha to punish you publicly. Those are the worst."

"What urine test?"

"They will call you at some point. Everyone has to pee in a cup once a week, and if they find any forbidden substance there, then you are in for a treat the next session."

Stiles wanted to ask more, but the Alpha shushed them and the guy immediately apologized and didn't say another word.

After two long hours of listening to other Betas talk about their life, the set of rules they had to abide and a strict schedule they had to follow (including bedtime!), Stiles realized that he had it actually pretty easy, compared to others. Sure, Derek was no godsend, but at least he didn't breathe down Stiles' neck every minute of the day and treated him like an adult, most of the time at least. He might have enjoyed a bit more care and attention from his Alpha, but the overbearing mothering the other Betas had to suffer through, was definitely not Stiles' cup of tea.

Stiles was called for his urine test towards the end, and when he was done, he saw Yukimura waiting for him.

"Stiles, how are you feeling?" Kira asked, hinting at Stiles's forehead.

Stiles was still quite pissed at her for suggesting that Derek should punish him for the traffic accident. He gave her a forced smile grumbling something along the lines of "'m fine" and tried to brush past her, but she stopped him.

"Where's Derek?"

"At work. There was some kind of emergency."

Kira seemed quite displeased with that answer, she grabbed his wrist and turned his palm up and down, then let go and hooked her finger on the neckline of his t-shirt and pulled it down. She tilted her head and gave Stiles a reproachful look.

"I noticed already in the hospital but gave you the benefit of the doubt. However, I see no spousal trinkets on you today either, Stiles."

Stiles realized she meant the wedding rings (or bracelets/necklaces) and shrugged nonchalantly, "I must have forgotten to put it on after the shower. We have lovely necklaces, white gold, pendants, and all."

Kira looked skeptical, "Well I'm looking forward to seeing it on BOTH of you next week then, as well as hearing about how WELL you are going along with the program."

"Sure," Stiles said through gritted teeth, unable to hide his irritation any longer.

Kira noticed it but probably didn't realize that Stiles' anger was in fact directed at her. "Derek must have been thorough if you are still sulking today," she noted smirking.

Stiles barely restrained himself not to snap something rude. Kira seemed satisfied with whatever she imagined Derek did to him, so he just grumbled something unintelligible and quickly disappeared back into the room.

* * *

xxx

On the way home, Stiles decided to stop by for groceries, if only to keep himself outside a little bit longer. Technically he was still grounded, but he was sure that grocery shopping would not land him in trouble. He even grabbed a couple of beers for Derek and some pasta in case he was feeling like cooking later.

Hands full with heavy grocery bags, he didn't dawdle around and went straight back to the apartment. The loud noise of the busy street, coupled with chirping birds and teenagers screaming something in the background, as well as his own heavy breathing almost made him miss the soft pitiful meowling sound coming from the side alley.

Stiles stopped, his eyes scanning the nearby dumpster in search of a potential culprit. Seeing none, he shook his head and turned around, but before he could take another step, the louder 'meow' echoed off the block walls.

Stiles put down the groceries and went to investigate the seemingly empty carton boxes tossed around the dumpster. And sure enough, one of them revealed a small silver tabby kitten.

"There you are," Stiles chuckled at the kitten, as he reached out to pet it.

The kitten cowered at first, but when Stiles started petting, it relaxed and nudged its head against his fingers. It looked dirty and scared and hungry and just heartbreakingly sad.

"Such a cutie, where's your momma?" Stiles asked, glancing around for any indication of other cats nearby. But why would a cat leave its kitten trapped in the box? It was more likely the kitten ended up being one of those ill-thought-out surprise presents, and the recipient didn't bother finding a new home for it. _Jerk._

Stiles looked at the kitten again, biting his lip in hesitation.

"Alright," he decided, "Stay here, I'll come back for you," he told the cat, grabbed the groceries and hurried home.

...

By the time Derek came home from work, Stiles managed to go back to fetch the cat, feed it, wash it, clean the apartment and the bathroom from the battle he endured during the washing, change his clothes, clean and disinfect the scratches on his hands and was about to finish cooking dinner.

Finding Stiles by the stove must have been quite an unexpected sight for Derek, who folded arms on his chest and narrowed his eyes observing him quietly.

"Oh, hi Derek," Stiles squeaked, jumping a bit when he noticed the Alpha staring at him, "I made dinner."

Instead of being pleased by it, the Alpha sent him a cold glare, "What did you do?" he hissed, his voice void of affability.

"Spaghetti Carbonara..?" Stiles croaked in confusion. He expected Derek to fly off the handle _after _he saw the cat, not before.

"No, you are buttering me up, so what happened?"

As if to answer that question, the kitten entered the kitchen stretching sleepily right by Derek's feet.

"Oh, I forgot to buy Parmesan!" Stiles chirped, scuttling to the door to desert the crime scene.

"STILINSKI!" Derek roared, making Stiles stop dead in his tracks.

"Hm?" Stiles attempted to look nonchalant as he turned around.

Derek sidestepped the kitten who immediately came closer again to rub against his legs, quite oblivious to the Alpha's discontent. "What is this?!" he snapped, pointing at the cat.

"Oh, this is Ruby," Stiles replied, playing dumb.

"And what is _Ruby_ doing here?!" Derek snarled, sidestepping the cat again, but with the same result.

Stiles stifled a chuckle, watching Derek dance around the kitten, who seemed to be determined to cuddle with him. "I found her at the dumpster on Glen Street, cold and hungry and meowing pitifully... couldn't just leave her there."

"What do you mean you couldn't leave her?!" Derek fumed, pinning him down with his _Alphaglare_. "You can't just drag a stray cat home without asking me!"

"Would you have said yes?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, that's why I didn't," Stiles shrugged unapologetically.

"This is not how this works, Stilinski," the Alpha growled, "The cat ain't staying here!"

Stiles wanted to argue further but Derek's definite tone suggested it would have been futile, so Stiles gave him a long stare and then shrugged again.

"Alright. Here," he took the kitten and handed her to Derek, "You can throw her out."

Derek clearly didn't expect that and looked at the kitten in his arms bewildered. The kitten, oblivious that its fate was being decided, clung to Derek's chest, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and started purring. Stiles watched the firm lines on Derek's face soften with resignation and knew that Derek lost that battle… not that he had any chance, to begin with.

The Alpha sighed, shaking his head in defeat. "You little manipulative brat," he cooed, petting the kitten, a shadow of a smile grazing his lips.

"Her name is Ruby."

"I was talking about you, Stilinski."

_Oh._

Stiles's heart jumped a little.

* * *

_TBC_


	7. He makes me laugh

_Author's note: I am a cat lover as well and have 2 of them home=)_

_As always thanks for all the encouragement and enjoy the next chapter!_

* * *

"How was the date?" Stiles asked Isaac, handing him a bottle of beer and opening one for himself. Derek didn't care if he occasionally indulged himself, as long as he didn't get caught or drunk, and since neither seemed likely at the moment, Stiles didn't bother asking for permission.

Isaac's cheeks colored a bit, his lips stretching into a satisfied grin. "It went well."

"Just well? Scott should be offended," Stiles teased him.

"Hey, I'm not the one to kiss and tell."

"Is that all you did?" Stiles pressed and then, watching the blush on Isaac's face deepen in shade, he waved his hands laughing, "Alright, I guess I'd rather not know."

Isaac tried to hide his discomfiture behind the beer bottle and Stiles decided to let him be and switched his attention to Derek, who just entered the room carrying his laptop only to find the chair by his desk already occupied by the new member of the family. Stiles poked Isaac in the ribs hinting at Derek with a grin.

The Alpha placed his laptop and watched the kitten contemplating his actions. After "Pssht" only got him an ear wiggle and "Off with you" was ignored in the same fashion, he employed his _Alphagrowl_, which always worked with animals - Stiles saw how it reduced the angry Stafford into a contrite puppy on the parking lot. However, to Derek's surprise (and Stiles' utter delight), this trick proved absolutely worthless when it came to Ruby.

She was no canine, and apparently she couldn't care less about his dominant presence. She stretched sleepily and changed position turning her butt towards Derek as if to remind him, just how much of a "notgiveafucker" she was.

Stiles and Isaac exchanged amused glances, waiting to see how Derek intended to solve this little "problem".

You see, even though Derek allowed the cat to stay he was very adamant about it being Stiles' cat and Stiles' responsibility - food, toilet, fur, vet, finances, etc., Derek didn't want to have anything to do with it. He also refrained from touching her, claiming he disliked cats and she was only staying till the actual owner came to claim her (they placed a facebook ad and posted cat-found flyers in the area). She was not allowed in his room, she was not allowed on the table, on the kitchen countertop and pretty much anywhere near Derek. And of course… she couldn't care less about any of those conditions.

Grumbling something under his breath Derek took the cat and placed her on the floor, sitting himself at the desk to do whatever work he came there for, but Ruby swiftly jumped back into his lap.

Stiles and Isaac couldn't hold back their snickers as they watched Derek put the cat on the floor several times only to have her jump back in his lap, completely ignoring his scowls and growls, cause she apparently claimed that spot for herself.

"Do you see what I see?" Stiles asked Isaac.

"Yes, I believe Derek found his match," Isaac replied grinning.

"Match?" Stiles intoned with exaggeration, "I believe the big bad Alpha has just been bested by a small defenseless kitten."

"Well, at least now we know who is the true Head of the Household inhere," Isaac remarked gleefully, sending provocative glances towards Derek.

"You keep at it, and one of you is gonna spend the next hour with his nose in the corner," Derek grumbled at them unamused, "Spoiler, it's gonna be you Stilinski."

"Ooh, touchy," Stiles sang, ignoring the threat.

"Don't test me, Stiles, there is only so much defiance I can deal with and your cat just used up your quota." Even though Derek was petting Ruby gently behind her ears, his tone left no doubt that he was not joking.

By the looks of it, ganging up on the Alpha and teasing him about his inability to impose his will was a no-no. Derek has never acted on his threats really, but then again Stiles has never pushed him enough either and now he experienced a wild impulse to do just that and see whether the Alpha would follow through. Corner time didn't sound nearly as horrifying as some of his other threats, but with Isaac present, it was still humiliating enough to quell that inauspicious desire.

Stiles took the kitten off Derek's lap. "Come Ruby, Daddy is not in the mood right now," he said with mock sulkiness and even though Derek shook his head in disapproval, his lips twitched ever so slightly at the title.

* * *

xxx

The next morning Stiles was woken by somebody shaking his shoulder.

"Get up, Stiles," Derek's voice invaded his dream. Stiles blinked a couple of times sleepily, trying to understand why was Derek in his room.

"What's going on?" he asked rubbing his eyes, "What time is it?"

"Quarter to six. Get up, wear something for sport, we are going running."

"Hard pass," Stiles groaned, dropping back on the pillow.

"That was not an invitation, Stilinski. Get up," Derek ordered leaving the room and Stiles was back in dreamland before the door even closed.

But not for long, Derek was back in a couple of minutes and this time he just took off Stiles' blanket, growling a stern, "UP!"

"Piss off Derek, I'm not going," Stiles snapped, tugging back on the blanket to cover himself. Surprisingly enough Derek let go and left the room again. Only to return the next minute with a bucket full of ice-cold water, which he splashed right in the face of his unsuspecting sleeping target.

Stiles howled, jumping off the bed, spluttering water and raging with language so colorful it would put a seasoned ghetto thug to shame.

"Are you awake now?" Derek asked, sounding unbearably calm and perhaps even bored, "Or do you need a sore bottom too before you do as you are told?"

Red with indignation, Stiles had a lot to say to that, but his self-preservation instinct kicked in just in time to mitigate it into a mere, "I'm up."

"Get dressed, wear something warm, it's chilly outside."

…

The streets looked deserted with only a couple of dog walkers breaking the perfect peace and quiet of the early morning. Stiles shivered, hunching his shoulders and hiding his nose in the hoodie, hating to be outside at this ungodly hour.

"Don't worry, you'll warm up quick enough," Derek said, stretching his legs. "I usually go for 6 miles, but today we will only do 3 and see how that will go."

To Stiles even 3 miles was 2,9 mile too much, so he just muttered something that could be understood as "lucky me", but just as well could have been "fuck me".

Derek inhaled deeply the fresh morning air and smiled with content, "I like the quiet."

"You know why it's quiet? It's because all NORMAL people are asleep at this hour!" Stiles huffed.

"Get used to it, we will be going 3 times a week," Derek said smirking, and before Stiles could reply, he took off, setting quite a tempo for Stiles to keep up.

Stiles' lungs gave out way before his muscles did. After 10 minutes of Derek's "leisurely" pace, he was about to pass out in the middle of the street. The cold air was scratching his throat like sandpaper, lungs burning like hell and chest about to implode on itself. And of course, Derek was just standing there waiting for him with a bored expression on his face, looking as annoyingly perfect as always.

As much as it vexed Stiles, it was entirely unsurprising. There was no point comparing himself to an Alpha. Their physical prowess was just universally better, so it was no wonder Derek outran him like nobody's business. Stiles would just as easily outrun an Omega… well most of them anyway. They had an Omega on their lacrosse team, who actually did outperform them all, including the Alphas, but Jackson was kind of a freak of nature.

"I'm renaming you to Snailinski," the Alpha joked handing him a bottle of water, which Stiles devoured in a matter of seconds.

"Not all of us won the genetic lottery, ok?" Stiles grumbled.

Derek waved his hand dismissively, "You are not that ugly, Stilinski."

"That's not what I mea… Fuck you!" Stiles snapped blushing.

Derek's face stretched into a genuinely amused smile (teeth and all) - the one Stiles wasn't sure he had seen before. (And damn, did he look gorgeous…) He pinched Stiles' cheek, chaffing, "Such a cute pout!" and took off running again goading Stiles with, "Hurry up, Snailinski."

Stiles has never seen this laidback playful side of Derek before and he couldn't help being a little enchanted by it.

Derek did slow down a bit after that, otherwise, Stiles would probably have to crawl the rest of the way, but by the end, he was still feeling very dead… while Derek barely broke any sweat.

"This is so unfair," Stiles complained, as he rested hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

"You did well, kid."

Stiles raised his eyes, expecting to see a hint of sarcasm behind the praise but found none.

"It will become easier with time, trust me. Oh, almost forgot, here," Derek took out the car keys from the pocket and threw them to Stiles. "Your jeep is done, it's in the garage."

"What do you mean 'it's done'? I didn't…" Stiles gaped at Derek in horror. With all the stuff going on, he never even bothered to learn what happened to his car, but apparently Derek dealt with it all on his own. "Oh my god, how much was it?" Stiles was pretty sure the insurance didn't cover it because he was the official culprit for the accident.

"Don't worry about it. It will be taken from your pay. You are starting today, I've put you in the lab, as an assistant for now. If it doesn't work for you, we can figure something else later."

"Wow, that's… thanks Derek, really," Stiles stammered awkwardly. He wasn't used to somebody solving his problems for him, and he definitely needed a job, not to mention lab assistance in Hale Pharmaceuticals sounded pretty exciting. "I really appreciate the job and the car and..."

"No problem," Derek cut him off and they fell into an awkward silence. Quarreling was something they were used to, while _this_ (whatever this was) was something that put them both out of their comfort zone.

Stiles was first to recover, "So what, are you gonna be my boss now?" he asked grinning.

Derek snorted, "More like your boss's boss's boss's boss."

"So you're a CEO or something?"

"Managing director, yes."

That came as no surprise really. Stiles read that Peter was handling most of the chemical companies under the Hale Industries umbrella, so it made sense for Derek to take on their core business. "I guess I won't see you in the lab, then?"

"Maybe on occasion, if there is some major fuck up," Derek shrugged. "You better not be the cause of it," he added, giving Stiles a pointed look.

"I haven't even started yet and you already expect me to screw up?" Stiles complained with a mock offense.

"I simply advise you not to," Derek replied, his lips twitching in amusement. He patted Stiles on the back, "Go shower, you have class in less than an hour."

Stiles didn't protest, though he was a bit surprised that Derek remembered his schedule.

* * *

xxx

In the afternoon Stiles started to feel under the weather. He tried to ignore it to the best of his ability since he was not gonna flunk his first day at work. He only had to survive 4 hours, and not like he was doing any work, he was shown around the lab, given the safety orientation and told about the work that was being done there. People seemed nice and Stiles was quite excited to start there, but after a couple of hours it became hard to fight the headache and his body aching in all the places at once, so he was happy to finally go home and crawl to bed.

Derek came home only half an hour later calling for Stiles to come to eat dinner. Stiles stumbled into the kitchen, quickly realizing that leaving bed was a bad idea.

"What's wrong? You look like shit," Derek asked, his brows furrowed with... concern?

"I'd like to say 'right back at you', but you always look so fucking good," Stiles replied staggering and trying to grab the edge of the table to keep his equilibrium. He missed and almost fell, but Derek caught him just in time.

"Alright princess, let's get you to bed," Derek said, sweeping Stiles off his feet in one quick motion and carrying him back to his room. Any other time Stiles might have felt embarrassed or scowl at being called a princess, but right now he didn't care.

"See, this is not gonna trigger me, because you are actually being nice," he replied groggily, resting his head against the Alpha's shoulder and inhaling Derek's unique scent, "And you smell... like elevator." He might have worded it wrong, but his brain was kinda mushy at the moment.

Derek chuckled, "Well you smell like a sick needy delirious Beta."

Stiles was clearly having a fever, which was confirmed when Derek took his temperature and thermometer showed 102°F. The Alpha then brought him a cup with some hot liquid, which Stiles immediately recognized by the smell as one of those awful Theraflu drinks for cold.

He shook his head making a disgusted face, "I'm not drinking that, I hate these!"

"I don't care, bottoms up," Derek said sternly, and it was obvious that he expected no arguing on the matter, but Stiles's decision-making abilities were severely lacking when he was feverish.

"No."

"Stilinski!"

"Hale!"

After a short glaring contest, Derek tried to reason with him, "You need to bring down the fever."

"Then get me the fucking pills. Every other normal human being has pills, while you have those nasty fucking drinks."

"I'm not having this discussion now. Do as you are told!"

"Yeah, try and make me."

For a second there he half expected Derek to do just that… Stiles was not even sure, why was he pushing the Alpha. Maybe it was the half-delirious state, maybe he was just basking in the sudden attention, maybe he simply felt like being the little shit under the disguise of the fever.

Derek narrowed his eyes and folded his hands on the chest, the pose Stiles recognized as 'I'm done with your shit'.

"Cut the crap. Drink up, or I'm bringing suppositories."

"Wha.. you…," Stiles went completely crimson… and not just from the fever, "You wouldn't!"

"Keep arguing and you'll find out!"

Stiles had no doubt that Derek won't hesitate for a second to put Stiles through that humiliating experience, so he quickly backpedaled, gulping down the nasty drink in 3 seconds.

"Good boy," Derek said and surprisingly it didn't come out mocking as Stiles would expect it to. He was definitely smirking, but there was also an underlying warmth behind his eyes.

* * *

xxx

Stiles woke up the next morning with a bad case of sore throat, he couldn't swallow without wincing, which made him all the more whiny about taking medicine. Thankfully Derek went to the pharmacy to fetch the pills and he wasn't torturing him with those nasty drinks any longer, but Stiles kept fussing anyway just for the sake of it.

Derek didn't go to work and stayed at home to 'keep an eye on him', even though Stiles reassured him, he was gonna be fine. After the flu pills kicked in, bringing down the fever, he got restless staying in bed and was quite appalled when Derek forbid him to leave it. He went to the toilet, casually checking on what Derek was doing and petting Ruby on the way to stall, but the Alpha saw right through it and ordered him back to bed growling his usual threats.

Stiles didn't stay in bed for long though, he heard Isaac's voice and decided it was a good enough excuse to leave the room again.

"Well, well, well. What happened to the 'living hell that you just have to survive'?" he heard Isaac's chuckling voice coming from the living room.

"I don't know, he…"Derek ran a hand through his hair, "He makes me laugh," he said.

Stiles couldn't see his expression, but he was almost certain that they were talking about him. And that was not something he expected to hear.

Isaac noticed him then and Derek immediately turned around scowling. "Do I have to chain you to bed for you to do as you're told? Because trust me, I will!" he growled with his usual pissed off expression as if he wasn't the one admitting that Stiles wasn't all bad just a second ago.

Stiles faltered at the sharp rebuke and adopted a look of a kicked puppy. "I was just getting bored there… and lonely. Can I stay here?" he appealed pitifully.

The firm lines on Derek's face softened, he nodded at Isaac to free the couch for Stiles and went to fetch him a blanket.

"Are you hungry?" the Alpha asked when Stiles settled down on the sofa.

"Not really, I guess I could eat something light though."

Derek brought him a bowl of soup. It was chicken broth with noodles and smelled surprisingly appetizing. Isaac kept them company for a bit and then excused himself, saying his lunch break was over and he had to return to work. Stiles thanked him for the soup, and Isaac got this foxy grin hinting subtly towards Derek.

When Isaac left, Stiles gave his husband a suspicious look. "You made me soup?"

"Can't have you dying on my watch," Derek replied nonchalantly as if it was no big deal. And frankly, if it was anyone else, it wouldn't be.

"Nobody dies of flu."

"With the amount of whining you did, you sure sounded as if you were about to."

"I wasn't whining! I just hate those honey-lemon drinks…" Stiles trailed off realizing he was just making excuses, "Anyway, thanks for getting me medicine and stuff. I…" Once again Stiles found himself at a loss for words because feelings of gratitude towards the Alphahole were uncharted territory for him. "When you are sick, I'll take care of you too."

Derek snorted. "I don't get sick."

"Like at all?"

"Not since puberty."

_Damn those Alpha genes! _"That's so not faaair," Stiles drawled frowning.

"Here we go again with the whining."

"Well, I'm sick, I should be allowed."

"Tough luck," Derek smirked, reaching out and ruffling his hair, "Rest, I need to do some work."

Stiles dozed off on the couch to the sound of Derek's fingers running on the keyboard. There was pleasant domesticity to it and though Stiles would never admit it, Derek's presence was rather soothing.

A few hours later Derek brought him the throat medicine, but Stiles didn't feel like swallowing anything so he pretended to be asleep, keeping his breathing slow and even.

Derek surprised him when instead of shaking his shoulder, he sat next to him, brushing the hair from his forehead, his touch soft and gentle as his fingers skimmed over the fainting bruise from the car accident. Stiles kept his eyes closed, confused at this unexpected tenderness from the Alpha.

The sofa shifted and he was hit with the intoxicating scent that always made him go weak in the knees. He was so close…Stiles couldn't see him but he could feel Derek's breath tickling his lips. At that point, he thought his heart will jump out of his chest for sure. Just a little bit closer...

But his pounding heart rate must have given Stiles away because the next second Derek was gone. Stiles opened his eyes, but couldn't see the Alpha anywhere in his purview, which made him unsure if he had perhaps imagined the whole thing.

* * *

xxx

Derek kept Stiles at home for two more days, even though Stiles kept protesting that he was feeling fine. The fever was gone, his throat was better and the idea of staying in bed for another second filled him with dread. Thankfully Derek didn't force him to lie down any longer, so Stiles kept himself busy, working on his school projects and cleaning the apartment from all the fur, that was for some reason everywhere! How could one small creature shed so much was beyond him.

Derek was coming home early from work, and even though Stiles refrained from questioning it, he had a feeling it was because of him. Or perhaps he didn't ask because he didn't want to get disillusioned if Derek had an actual legit reason. Either way, Stiles made sure to have dinner ready by the time the Alpha came home, as a small gesture of gratitude. He was no great cook, but there were a couple of meals that he was half decent at, and Derek seemed to appreciate a change from all the takeouts they were living on.

Their time together while still nowhere near the heartfelt camaraderie he had with Scott, was getting the comfortable domestic flavor. They were still bickering most of the time but the animosity was slowly dissipating. Nothing more, nothing less. Derek gave him no reason to believe that he was even remotely into him, so Stiles figured that he probably dreamt the whole "near kiss" scenario.

That was till the Alpha threw him off again...

…

Stiles couldn't find his phone. He looked around his room, checked his jacket and all the usual places he put it on, but couldn't see it anywhere.

"Derek, could you call me, please?" he shouted, but there was no reply. "Derek?" he called again glancing around the apartment. He heard the water raining down from the bathroom indicating that the Alpha was in the shower.

Stiles noticed Derek's phone on the kitchen counter, and without giving it much thought, decided to just use the phone to call himself.

He started typing in his phone number and after a couple of digits, the contact "Stiles" was suggested. Stiles was taken aback that Derek would save him as such, given Stiles had Derek's number saved under "Alphahole dickhead". He expected to be an "idiot" or "moron" or something of the sort.

"What are you doing?"

_Oh busted._ Stiles didn't realize, that water stopped running, while he was staring at the screen of Derek's phone.

"Uhm, nothing, just calling my phone," Stiles stammered, rushing over to the table, where his phone started ringing. "Got it," he said with fake cheerfulness.

Derek didn't say anything he just extended his hand, palm up waiting for Stiles to bring him back his phone.

Stiles's stomach did all kinds of acrobatics. He knew he was not supposed to touch Derek's things, the Alpha made that bit very clear. Besides, using somebody's phone without the person's consent was just downright rude.

He placed the phone on Derek's palm and stole a glance at the man. The intense gaze Derek was giving him was very unnerving. It wasn't exactly his usual 'pissed Alpha' expression and Stiles wasn't sure whether this meant he was in trouble or not.

He quickly turned around ready to make his escape, but Derek spoke before he could do that.

"Put your hands on the wall."

The quiet command made his heart skip a beat.

_Fuck._ This was it. He pushed too far.

Stiles gulped, weighing his options. Running away was useless the last time he tried it. Pleading was too embarrassing and probably just as useless. As much as he didn't want to receive another whipping, compliance seemed to be the safest bet for a lenient punishment.

Derek's face didn't give anything away, as the Alpha simply waited for Stiles to obey.

Stiles placed his hands on the wall feeling an unfathomable surge of excitement. It must have been the adrenaline, because why the fuck would he feel excited right now?

He heard Derek approach him from behind and waited for the sound of the belt swish through the loops, but it didn't come. Not that nor anything else. The Alpha was just standing behind him and the anticipation build-up was making Stiles squirm.

_What is he doing just standing there?_

Stiles started to turn around to ask as much, but the quiet "Eyes front," kept him in position.

Derek's voice sounded husky and a bit breathless and Stiles didn't know what to think. The Alpha's proximity was intoxicating. It was scary, and… hot? The air was practically buzzing with sexual tension and Stiles was growing increasingly confused… and turned on.

Then he felt Derek touch his hip, and the jolt of arousal shot through his body. _What the hell is wrong with me? _

Derek's hand squeezed his hip slightly while the other landed on his bottom with a loud pop.

"Oh," Stiles exhaled more out of surprise than from pain. Though 'pain' was a strong word, because it actually didn't really hurt, the lingering tingling sensation was almost pleasant.

The second swat stung his bottom and Stiles realized that he was getting hard at this "punishment", if one could even call it that. It looked like one of those spankings the "oh so naughty" Omegas received in porn movies, before getting fucked like "bad boys".

Derek spanked him 3 more times and Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. He felt the Alpha lean down and his hot breath sent shivers down his spine. He kept his hand on Stiles's hip and Stiles had a sudden urge to rub against him, but he didn't dare move.

"Don't touch my things."

His whispering voice had a great deal of dominance in it, and yet it didn't sound like a reprimand at all. Stiles almost blurted a "Yes Sir" like those Omegas in porn but managed to bite his tongue.

And just like that Derek was gone. Stiles kept standing there, hands on the wall, heart pummelling in his chest and dick swelling against the zipper of his jeans.

_What the hell just happened?_

* * *

_TBC_


	8. Acting on impulse

_Author's note: Introducing a bunch of different pairings, but the focus will stay on Sterek._

_I hope you like the next chapter, I was looking forward to this one=) _

* * *

Even though Stiles was sick for half of the week, they finally had something to show to Kira about fulfilling the program. Stiles got a job and a pet, though Ruby's rehabilitational properties were questionable, Stiles was sure he could make a case how taking care of a cat supported his sense of responsibility, or something of the sort. They got the sports activity covered with their morning jog and Stiles's friends from Beacon Hills were meeting at the bowling club on Friday, so that could count as cultural activity (if you squint).

Derek was not particularly keen on going, but Stiles persuaded him that there was nothing more "socializing" than hanging out with friends and that they should go for the BRP sake. Scott and Isaac were supposed to go as well, but at the last moment something came up and Isaac couldn't make it.

That was a downer for several reasons. One being Scott, who kept checking his phone every 5 minutes, the second being Derek, who didn't really know anyone else there, and third being Stiles, who was the only Beta in the company of Alphas and Omegas.

Remember what I said about all the drama always surrounding Alphas and Omegas, while Betas acted as unimportant extras? That was how Stiles felt most of his high school years. There was not one thing that he could feel exceptional at. Don't get me wrong, he loved his friends… (well most of them, he barely tolerated Jackson for Danny's sake) but to be constantly reminded of your own mediocrity was hard.

His dad always said that if society was a cake, the Alphas would be the layers of cake, Betas would be the filling and Omegas would be the icing on the top. Stiles disagreed. He felt that a way better parallel would be Alphas being the cake layers (the main pillars of the society), Omegas everything in between - the filling, the icing, the decorations, etc (providing society with flavor and beauty) and Betas the people who ate the cake (the boring homogeneous mass who consumed the delicious sweet dessert).

Stiles had no intention to tell anyone about the BRP, so the official backstory was that Derek and Stiles were simply dating. Something that raised a couple of eyebrows and one derisive snort from Jackson.

"So what does Stilinski have on you?" he asked Derek. The Alpha frowned in confusion whereas Stiles had a pretty good idea what Jackson meant by that question. And apparently so did Lydia.

"Jackson!" she chided.

"What? Don't give me that look, sweetheart. Look at him," he nodded at Derek, obviously hinting at his stupidly good looks, "Stiles must have flashed his daddy's badge to blackmail him into this."

Stiles rarely paid attention to Jackson's remarks. Unlike Lydia, who was smart and quirky but at the same time very submissive, sweet and well mannered, Jackson was a huuuuge Omega-brat. He was as arrogant as he was handsome and Stiles was always marveling at Danny's patience with his impossibly dickish boyfriend.

Derek didn't reply as it was his turn to bowl and Stiles couldn't come up with any witty retort either. To make matters worse he blushed because there was a grain of truth and Stiles totally flashed his badge at Derek.

"Danny, control your Omega, please," Jordan told the other Alpha, who missed the whole encounter because he was busy bowling. Lydia snuggled closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

Stiles was long over his obsession with Lydia but her cordial relationship with Jordan was hard to stomach at times. He tried not to look at the couple and focused on scowling at Jackson instead. Danny gave his smug-faced boyfriend an inquiring glance, but Jackson didn't elaborate, so the Alpha just patted his knee with a quiet "Behave", which was a rather weak deterrent if you ask me.

As if on purpose Stiles sent both of his balls straight to the gutters, putting him in the last place together with Lydia. Except when she missed, it was all "cute" and "adorable" and when he did, it was clumsy and embarrassing. Scott patted him on the back, chuckling at his friend's poor performance.

"Stilinski, you know you are supposed to hit the _pins_, right?" Jackson sneered.

Stiles's "Shut up" was a rather weak counter, especially since the Omega went right after him and hit a Strike with his first ball.

The game went on and Stiles's performance improved a bit. He outballed Lydia and almost reached Scott (whose attention was still primarily in his phone). Jordan, Derek, and Danny were fighting for the second place while Jackson played his own league alternating between Strikes and Spares. The cocksure Omega didn't dare to openly deride the Alphas, so Stiles (being the easiest target of the bunch) got the main portion of his venomous tongue.

"Don't worry, Derek, I know a couple of fine Omegas, I can hook you up with," Jackson winked at Derek.

"Like yourself?" Derek replied raising an eyebrow, lips curling in a smirk.

Stiles felt a sharp stab of jealousy. They might have been only pretending, but dammit, Derek was supposed to have his back, not flirt with this douchebag! Well, they would be just perfect for each other - the Alphahole and the Omegabrat.

Jackson's smug smile grew tenfold, he leaned on his elbows towards Derek splashing the whole table with pheromones. The sudden alluring smell affected all the Alphas around. Scott finally unglued his eyes off his phone, Jordan glared, Stiles swooned and Derek smirked looking behind Jackson at the very pissed Danny.

Not all Omegas could emit such powerful pheromones, and it was simply unfair, that with his already gorgeous looks Jackson had such strong chemistry to back up his attractiveness. Unsurprisingly, Danny didn't take well for his Omega to flirt with other Alphas.

His eyes darkened, much like Derek's did when he was really pissed. He grabbed Jackson by the arm and yanked him into standing position. "Now that's _enough_," he said quietly.

Danny was generally a very calm quiet Alpha, which contrasted sharply with Jackson's flashy demeanor. He rarely showed his dominance in public and almost never openly reprimanded his boyfriend. He would probably do nothing else, if he tried, besides everyone was used to Jackson's bratty persona anyway. However, even Danny had his limits and if Jackson's blanched look was any indication, his Alpha has just reached his.

"Please excuse us," he dropped not taking his eyes of Jackson, whose face went from smug to beet red, as he was dragged by the arm to the lavatory.

"Finally," Jordan said, shaking his head in disapproval. Stiles and Scott exchanged an amused look, sharing Jordan's sentiment, but with a bit more glee.

Derek looked smug, a small satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He wrapped his hand around Stiles' shoulders pulling him close. Stiles raised his eyes in a silent question and the Alpha smiled with a quick brow waggle, confirming that that was his intention all along. The warm feeling spread all over Stiles' chest. It looked like Derek wasn't interested in Jackson after all, he simply wanted to get him in trouble.

They didn't wait for Danny and Jackson and played another game. This time, Stiles played way better, even overtaking Derek in the last round, though Jordan claimed the win in the end. Lydia started taking celebratory pictures and soon enough everyone joined in for the group pic. _Something to show to Kira later, _Stiles thought. Though looking at Derek's sour face, one would think he was the one in need of rehabilitation.

Jackson and Danny were gone for a good 40 minutes and when they finally joined them for the last game, Jackson acted way more submissive and amiable. He even ordered drinks for everyone as an apology. Danny raised an eyebrow at that, probably expecting a verbal one to accompany the gesture, but Jackson wasn't one to gush about how sorry he was. Needless to say, Stiles didn't get any personal treatment either, but at that point, he didn't care anymore.

All in all, they had a good time, or at least Stiles did, Derek was probably less comfortable in the company of people he didn't know well, but he didn't complain. As they were walking back to the apartment, they passed a jewelry store and Stiles suddenly stopped remembering his impromptu promise to Kira during the last BRP group.

"Fuck."

"What?"

"Uhm," Stiles chewed on his bottom lip nervously, "I might have told Kira, that we wear the spousal necklaces…"

Derek narrowed his eyes in annoyance, "Might have?"

"I'm sorry. She was already pissed, that you weren't there and then she started grilling me for not wearing any designated jewelry and I blurted that I forgot it at home."

"Of course you did," Derek deadpanned unamused.

Stiles grimaced, mentally preparing for the inevitable scolding, "She wants to see it tomorrow."

The Alpha rolled his eyes and opened the door to the jewelry store, pushing Stiles inside gruffly. He let Stiles pick everything because he didn't know what exactly Stiles told Kira. Since they needed the necklaces for tomorrow already they couldn't have anything custom made, so they picked classic ring pendants with minimal embellishments.

"I'm sorry," Stiles offered, feeling bad for ruining an otherwise pleasant evening.

Derek didn't even look at him. "Forget it."

"You could take it out of my paycheck."

"You barely worked for one day, Stilinski."

"But I'll come on Monday again and…"

"I said, forget it," Derek repeated firmly, then watching Stiles' deflated posture, he stopped and took the jewelry out of the box. He wrapped one necklace around Stiles' neck, clasping it from behind and then prompted Stiles to do the same for him. "Might as well get used to it."

Stiles fought a happy smile as he put the necklace on Derek - his _husband…_ It finally felt real somehow. Stiles couldn't understand the feeling, he knew it was not a real marriage, they weren't lovers, they didn't even like each other… (much), but at least one thing was proper now.

"There. Now you can stop looking like a lost puppy every time we pass a jewelry store," Derek said, tucking his necklace under his shirt.

"I never…! Why would you…?" Stiles fumed, gasping for air in indignation, "You are delusional if you think I actually want this!"

"Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night," the Alpha smirked down at him.

Stiles attempted a glare, though he was pretty sure his flushed cheeks were softening its effectiveness. "Fuck you, Derek."

"You wish."

* * *

xxx

Stiles was pouting all the way to the apartment, but as they exited the elevator Derek stopped abruptly. Stiles followed his gaze and saw that the door to the apartment was opened.

Derek clasped a hand over Stiles's mouth and pushed him back into the elevator. "Go to the garage and stay there. If I don't come to get you within 15 minutes, call the police," he whispered harshly, his face very serious.

"What, why? What are you gonna do?" Stiles whispered back, but Derek already pressed the elevator button and the doors closed, sending Stiles alone to the garage.

He knew for sure that they had locked the door when leaving. Somebody broke into the apartment... or perhaps he was still there? Derek looked very alarmed and that alone made Stiles's neck prickle with unease.

The elevator opened and Stiles darted to his car. He paced around nervously, wondering how much time has passed. Probably not more than 2 minutes. He clamped his sweaty palms together, squeezing to relieve the building stress, but it wasn't much help. Biting his lip, he checked the time again. Another 30 seconds passed.

"Fuck it."

Stiles unlocked his jeep and opened the trunk. There, in between the spare wheel and the medkit, perfectly hidden was his fake badge and the toy gun. "Armed" he rushed back to the elevator.

…

He heard the muted voices already from the stairwell. Stiles kept his step light, opening the door quietly, to keep the element of surprise.

"Where is it?" he heard an angry voice.

"Where is what?" came Derek's stiff reply.

"Don't play dumb, Hale, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Stiles peeked behind the corner and saw two armed goons standing in the living room. They weren't wearing any masks, suggesting that it was no armed robbery and unlike Stiles's their Glocks were no toys. The silencer attached made the weapons appear all the more menacing. Derek had his arms crossed on the chest and appeared calm, though Stiles could tell that he was anything but.

"Alright tough guy, you think I'm playing games?" one of the thugs snapped, clearly losing patience with Derek. "I'm gonna count to three," he said, pointing a gun at Derek's forehead.

Stiles needed no further invitation, he quickly rounded the corner pointing his gun at them with a loud, "Freeze! Police!"

All three men snapped their heads in his direction, and before he could say anything else, two guns were firing at him.

_Shit!_

Stiles ducked and leaped behind the couch, practically feeling the bullets passing mere inches above his body. The sound was dulled significantly by the silencers, but several cracks on the wall, just where Stiles stood half a second ago, proved that those were real bullets and they were aimed for his head. The reality of the situation hit him with nauseating force, the adrenalin shooting through the roof, as Stiles realized that his bluff backfired and now he was fucked.

There was a dull sound a yelp and a body falling down on the floor, more shots, more blunt sounds, all within a span of 5 seconds or so. And then Stiles saw the two men running from the apartment, their steps echoing from the stairwell. He wanted to check what happened, but his limbs refused to listen, his body frozen with fear.

Then two strong arms gripped him and Derek's face appeared in front of him, "Stiles, Stiles! Are you hurt? Did they get you?" he said, shaking him slightly.

"I…" Stiles finally let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He focused his scattered thoughts to see if he felt any pain and then shook his head, "I'm fine."

Derek didn't look convinced, he helped Stiles up and started running his hands over his torso searching for gun wounds. Not finding any he took Stiles by the wrist and led him to the sofa, planting him firmly on it with a curt, "Sit." He disappeared to the kitchen and came back a minute later handing Stiles a glass of what appeared to be water but smelled weird.

"What's this?" Stiles asked wrinkling his nose.

"Drink," Derek ordered firmly, "I added a bit of valerian."

Stiles drank, resting his head against the sofa and feeling his nausea started to subside.

After a couple of minutes, he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "What the hell was that? Who are they? What are they looking for?"

But Derek ignored all the questions pointing a finger in Stiles' face, "Which part of my instruction was unclear, Stilinski?" he snarled, his eyes flashing with anger.

"I uh... you didn't say… I didn't think they would…" Stiles stuttered, searching for words.

Derek didn't wait for an explanation, he sat on the couch and in one swift motion flipped Stiles over his lap.

"Derek, Ow!" Stiles yelped as the sharp swats started falling down on his butt. "What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm punishing you for your supreme idiocy!" the Alpha growled, applying his hand with unrestrained enthusiasm.

And it hurt!

"Ouch, Derek, Ow, Stop!" Stiles cried, reaching out to stop his hand.

To his surprise, Derek actually did stop. "Am I hurting you?"

"What do you mean?! You are beating my ass, take a wild guess!" Stiles retorted, not bothering to tone down the sarcasm.

Derek righted him to standing position, but Stiles's relief was short-lived because the Alpha didn't let him go and instead said, "Alright, take off your pants."

Stiles' stomach did a flip flop. "W-What?!"

"I'm not done with you, but I need to see the damage I'm doing."

"But… that... No!" Stiles exclaimed, going completely crimson at the prospect of being smacked on the bare.

"Yes."

"_Derek!_" Stiles whined.

"No, don't even try to talk your way out of this, you absolutely deserve to be punished!" Derek replied firmly, "But given the previous experience, I need to make sure I don't hurt you in the process."

_You ARE hurting me in the process, that's how spanking works! _Stiles wanted to point out, but he knew that getting smart with the Alpha at this point would only dig him deeper. "I'll tell you!"

Derek shook his head. "You are not a reliable source, you are a party of interest."

"But this is embarrassing!"

"No, what's embarrassing is how you completely disregarded a direct order, even though you knew how serious I was!"

"Come on, Derek! I'm sorry!"

"You will be. Now you can take them down, or I will," Derek said pointing at Stiles' jeans, "Either way they are coming down."

Stiles figured that letting Derek do it would be even worse, so red with humiliation he unzipped and lowered his jeans. The Alpha didn't waste another second bending him back over and pulling down his boxers. Stiles gave a little whine at that, which was soon replaced by a very real one when Derek started smacking him anew.

And damn it hurt way more on the bare! Stiles quickly regretted not keeping his mouth shut. To make matters worse, the Alpha started scolding him.

"I told you to stay put, Stilinski! Was it so hard to follow a simple instruction?"

"I couldn't just do nothing! And I heard sounds, I wanted to help!" Stiles argued, wincing in pain. It wasn't as bad as the belting, but the sharp sting was reaching Stiles' pain tolerance very fast.

The Alpha gave a derisive snort, "The only thing you _helped _with is almost getting yourself killed and them getting away!"

"Ow! That's not true, they would have killed you!" Stiles protested hotly, digging his hands into the couch to help cope with the burning heat in his rear.

"I had the situation under control until you showed up!"

"Under control?" Stiles exclaimed in indignation, "You had a gun to your head!"

Derek paused the assault momentarily but kept his hands on Stiles' back, effectively pinning him down. "And strength, agility, and reflexes for it to not matter!"

"So now you are invincible against the bullet to the head?!" Stiles shot back, turning his head and scowling at the Alpha.

"No, but I would never get a bullet to the head because if that was the plan, they would shoot right away. _You,_ however, they had no problem shooting at!" Derek retorted sharply as he resumed the spanking with an added intensity, raining hell on Stiles' sit spots.

"Oww," Stiles howled, the tears prickling at his eyes.

"You could have been killed, Stiles!"

"Well, good riddance for you then!" Stiles snapped, trying hard to keep his emotions under control. He knew that it wasn't a particularly strong argument, because if he got killed, Derek would most probably end up in jail.

"Idiot! I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you!"

_Oh._

That was not a reaction Stiles expected. Did Derek actually care about him? The realization brought a fluttering feeling to his chest as well as deep shame for his words and actions, giving way to tears that threatened to spill for the past couple of minutes.

"I'm sorry!" Stiles choked down a sob, overcome with feelings of shame and regret. The bluff has saved him many times before, but that was because the other party was always unarmed. He didn't think they would start shooting at him. Once they did, he thoroughly regretted pointing a fake gun at the pair of real ones. And while it did distract them enough for Derek to take action, it was still hardly the best scenario he could have come up with.

He could have made a noise to distract them or pull the fire alarm or several other smarter things if he took the time to think and didn't act on impulse. And what if Derek didn't manage to take them down? They would be both dead by now… Or maybe just Stiles, since they obviously wanted something from Derek.

Stiles didn't fight the tears any longer, his body going limp accepting the discipline. It must have been what Derek was aiming for because shortly after the spanking was over. Derek rested his hand on the heated flesh of his bottom, while the other brushed through his hair, petting him softly.

Stiles was aware that he was not being smacked any longer, but he was reluctant to leave the position. His feelings were all over the place.

There was a strong embarrassment over the fact that he had just been punished, for real this time, and on the bare no less. Ugh...And it hurt! And he probably deserved it, and he cried. He _cried_ in front of _Derek_ over a _spanking_ \- that was the worst!

There was also this weird tranquil feeling. Like a calm after the storm. Stiles knew exactly what it was, he just never experienced the stress relief that could come with physical discipline if done right.

And then there was Derek… his hand petting him softly, his presence soothing and somehow reassuring. Derek cared. He practically said so. Of course, Stiles had no intention to confront him, but the words kept replaying in Stiles' head, filling him with warmth. As much as it was contradictory to lying bare-assed over somebody's lap, Stiles felt grounded, safe and protected.

Derek carefully pulled his boxers back up, patting his butt, but Stiles made no attempt to move.

"Are you alright?" the Alpha asked him.

"Mhm," Stiles hummed noncommittally. His tears long dried, his breathing evened, but he still felt vulnerable and clingy.

Thankfully, Derek didn't force him up and just resumed the petting, rubbing his back gently, allowing Stiles the time to regain his composure.

"I was scared," Stiles said, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Me too," Derek replied quietly.

Stiles sighed and finally pulled himself off Derek's lap, sitting on his knees and meeting the Alpha's eyes. Derek had an unreadable expression on his face and Stiles decided it was time to get some answers.

"You owe me an explanation."

It wasn't an accusation or demand but rather a statement. It was obvious that Derek knew exactly why those men came and what they were looking for. It was also very telling that Derek didn't call the police when they left. And whether Derek liked it or not, Stiles was a part of his life now. He deserved to know what was going on, especially if it could put him in danger.

The Alpha sighed and nodded, "I need a drink," he said getting up and going to the kitchen.

"Stiles?!" he called from there, sounding alarmed.

Stiles went to check what was the matter and saw Derek pointing at Ruby wide-eyed. The cat was rolling on the floor back and forth, emitting meowling sounds and cuddling to the plastic cap. Stiles saw the bottle of valerian on the table and everything clicked.

"What is wrong with her?" Derek asked anxiously, "Is she in pain? Should we call a doctor, I mean vet… there has to be some emergency pet clinic right?"

"Valerian…," Stiles replied, trying to suppress laughter over Derek's fretting, "Cats go crazy over it… You have just drugged our cat."

Derek's dumbfounded face was priceless.

* * *

_TBC_


	9. Trouble

_Author's note: __You might have noticed, that I have broken the unspoken weekly update schedule. I work in a seasonal business, and it's the season now, so work has been tough. It should be over soon, but even so, I expect there will be delays in updates._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy the longer chapter=)_

* * *

"Well?" Stiles said expectantly, once Derek poured himself a glass of whiskey and nestled down on the sofa, "Who are they and what do they want?"

Derek sipped on his drink, appearing deep in thought and in no rush to answer the questions.

"_Derek_."

"How much do you know about the Blast Pharmaceuticals scandal?" he replied.

Stiles frowned trying to make a connection. "Something about your mom saying their drug has not been tested enough and that they bribed the ministry."

"Not the ministry, just the Secretary of Health Mason Palmer. He decided to ban a component present in many products for Omegas (mood regulators, pheromone boosters, etc), called orapherall. The substance is used by various manufacturers, not just us, and has been proven to be safe by years of testing as well as millions of users."

"Oh right, I remember now. They said there was some new study proving carcinogenic effects of orapherall and that's why they were banning it," Stiles chipped in.

"Except the study was financed by Blast Pharmaceuticals and had questionable procedures and even more questionable results. They published it right before the launch of their new product line for Omegas, which used xenaprosyn instead. And very conveniently the ministry decided to ban orapherall, giving Blast Pharmaceuticals a monopoly on the market for Omega products."

"Huh," Stiles nodded, as his mind started putting together a picture.

"Now, xenaprosyn is not necessarily bad, just not studied enough. However, the study they published about orapherall was completely botched. And obviously you shouldn't just ban thousands of products based on one…"

"Yeah, I get it. Get to the point Derek!"

The Alpha narrowed his eyes at him and Stiles gulped nervously. For someone sitting on a sore butt, that was a bit too much attitude. He blushed, realizing as much and dropped his gaze in his lap.

Derek might have been beating around the bush focusing on less important details, but it was probably because the topic was not an easy one for him. And as much as Stiles wanted to know the truth, getting snappy was uncalled for.

"Sorry."

Silence fell between them again. Derek frowned into his glass and finished it in one gulp.

"The _point_ is, that my mom had proof that Mason was bribed. Emails, pictures, video, documentation… I saw it, the small red flash drive. The fire was probably only meant to destroy the evidence…" Derek trailed off, pouring himself more whiskey.

Stiles felt his chest aching for him, the pain was practically radiating from Derek, even though his face remained a blank mask.

"...but it took my family with it."

Stiles knew what losing a loved one felt like, his mom was taken by FTD when Stiles was only 10. And the years only dulled the hollow feeling left by her passing, the pain was always there. He could imagine the hole left by having your whole family killed. The hurt, the fury, the anger and the lust for vengeance, that Derek must be feeling. The fire was only 2 years ago.

"But what about the police, how come..?" Stiles started to ask but was cut off by the growl of frustration.

"I have no proof! It's all gone! Besides, given the lack of attention, I'm pretty sure the police on the case was bought by the fucker. Nothing ties Mason, nor Blast Pharmaceuticals to the fire. Nothing! Even if I had that fucking flash drive, which must have been stolen from the crime scene, cause it's just not fucking there, but even if I had it, I would only be proving a possible motive."

"Well… they obviously believe that you have it," Stiles noted.

Derek released a sharp frustrated breath. "They have been trying to get me out of the picture for a while now."

"Because you know about the bribe?"

"Yes, but also because they want to buy our pharmaceutical division and I keep vetoing it."

"What about Peter?" Stiles asked frowning. If Derek was vetoing it, it meant that Peter wanted to go through with it. Derek just held his gaze. He didn't have to say anything, Stiles already put two and two together, "No way, you think he was in on it?!" he exclaimed.

"He wasn't there for the fire. He inherited the majority of the company…"

"I don't believe it!"

"You don't have to. I want you to stay away from him regardless."

"What makes you so sure? I mean, he is your uncle!" _Your only living family!_ Stiles knew there must have been a serious reason for their relationship to be so bad, but he didn't expect THAT.

Derek's jaw tensed suggesting he didn't like the direction of the conversation. He took his time playing with ice cubes inside his glass. Stiles saw how on edge Derek was. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for him. He always appeared so strong and dominant and dickish and self-assured, but underneath all that lay tragedy and family drama.

"Because a couple of months after the fire, there was a gas leak in my girlfriend's apartment. After I _told_ him I'm heading there for the night."

_Oh._

Girlfriend. Of course, Derek had to have relationships. Stiles wasn't sure why it came as a surprise. Maybe because he always took Derek for a quick-fuck-and-goodbye kind of guy, or maybe because Derek always showed little to no interest in anyone.

_What the fuck is wrong with me? He just told me his uncle killed his family and tried to kill him, and all I think about is the fact that he had a girlfriend?! _

"I didn't actually go and hit the bar instead and… she spent two weeks in a coma. We broke up after that. I couldn't face her."

Without giving himself time to analyze it, Stiles got up and went to sit next to Derek. He was close enough for their legs and arms to touch, but other than that Stiles didn't attempt any further physical contact. He just wanted to offer his support sensing how hard it was for Derek to talk about it.

"I have no proof it was Peter, but the similarities between the fire and the gas leak are too fucking obvious for it to be a mere coincidence."

"But, I still don't understand. If he wants you dead…"

"He doesn't," Derek interrupted him, "Now he just wants me gone. My death would bring too much attention at this point."

"That doesn't make sense Derek, he _helped_ us, remember? If he just wanted to get rid of you, surely he wouldn't intercept the weed found in my car."

"He might have been the one planting it there, to begin with."

"And then had a sudden change of heart?" Stiles shook his head, "No, the weed was mine, I left it there and I recognized my handwork."

Derek let out a frustrated sigh, "Look. I'm not saying it all makes sense. I don't know... I have no proof. Even after all this time, I have nothing!" he spat, plunking the glass on the table with a loud thud. "I have been banging my head against the wall with various private investigators, burning through money like paper, and all my leads end nowhere."

"Is that what you were doing in Las Vegas?" Stiles asked even though he was already pretty sure about the answer, "And then when you left me locked in the room? And every time you had _work_ on the weekend? Don't give me that look, it's a no brainer."

"Then why are you asking?" Derek snapped.

"Because I want to help."

A pause. A frown. No answer. More whiskey.

"Wait, you think I'm in on it too?!" Stiles exclaimed, feeling quite hurt by that implication.

Derek rolled his eyes, "_Moron._ They just shot at you. Even if I had doubts, this is a pretty convincing argument."

Even though Derek just insulted him again, Stiles still felt relieved. "You really thought I could be planted?"

"Well, not really. But I didn't exclude such a possibility at first," Derek replied, pointing at Stiles with his glass, "And how do you think you can help? You can't follow even a simple instruction."

Stiles ignored the sarcastic rebuke, got off the couch and went to fetch a plastic zip bag from the kitchen. Sheathing his hand in it, he carefully took the gun lying on the floor, wrapping the bag around it and zipping it close. The gun was still a bit warm and Stiles shivered remembering as the thing was pointed at him and the sound of shots being fired.

"I have access to the police database. If we manage to get a good fingerprint off of this thing, we can get a name."

"You want to ask your father?"

"No. I want to ask Jordan."

Derek was silent for a moment thinking it over and then shrugged, "Alright. Let's try."

Stiles couldn't help a satisfied smile spreading over his lips. He was on Derek's 'trust list' after all. And by the looks of it, the list wasn't particularly long, with probably only Isaac in the know. Of course, he couldn't be sure his idea will lead anywhere, but he was happy that Derek accepted his help.

Stiles basked in this content feeling up until he went to pick up his own 'gun' that was still lying by the couch. As soon as he grabbed it, Derek snatched it from his hands and before he had time to object, Derek pulled the fake badge from his pocket too while his other hand crashed against Stiles's bottom sharply.

"Ow! What was that for?" Stiles protested, blood rushing to his face. He glared at Derek resisting an urge to rub the reignited sting out.

"Why do you still have those?! Have you forgotten that you were already charged with impersonating police?!" the Alpha growled.

"It's for emergencies!"

"And how did _that_ work out for you?"

Stiles pouted but didn't argue.

"Toy guns are not gonna save you, only get you in more trouble. It might have discouraged some lowlife junkies, but it's not gonna work against these people. I don't _ever _want to see you do something so stupid again!"

Stiles frowned. "I already said I'm sorry!"

"I'm not scolding you."

"Yes, you are!" Stiles retorted folding his arms on his chest sullenly. This was not fair! Derek already punished him, and yet he was still mad.

The Alpha looked at him, his features softening. He reached out and grabbed him in a quick hug, which caught Stiles completely off guard. "Alright, alright, kid, stop sulking," he said, his voice sounding amused and perhaps even affectionate.

"'M not," Stiles argued red-faced, but he didn't attempt to break the hug. Unfortunately, it was over before he had a chance to enjoy it and Derek went back to finish his drink. Stiles just stared at him, marveling at the ease with which Derek moved on as if nothing out of ordinary happened. It was obvious that the Alpha felt way more comfortable than Stiles did. Perhaps whiskey started to kick in.

As if sensing the sudden awkwardness in the air, Ruby jumped on Derek's lap and settled in purring. Stiles couldn't help the chuckle remembering Derek's humorous freak-out over valerian.

The Alpha raised his head, fixing Stiles with a threatening glare, "Not a word from you!"

But Stiles ignored the warning. "_What is wrong with her? Is she in pain?_" he exclaimed, waving his hands in the air, parodying Derek.

"Stilinski!"

"_We need a doctor! There has to be some emergency pet clinic right?_" Stiles continued, exaggerating the panic.

"I'm gonna spank you again!" the Alpha growled, his eyes flashing with a reddish undertone.

"Worth it."

"Huh?" Derek put his glass on the table and carefully set the cat aside, casting Stiles a predatory look. "Let me disillusion you then," he said smirking, ready to grab Stiles for the second round of discipline.

Stiles laughed and bolted to his room for cover, calling from the hallway something along the lines of, "No, thank you!"

* * *

xxx

On Saturday, Stiles spent the whole morning preparing the speech for the BRP group. He wasn't big on public speaking and even though he presented plenty of projects in front of the class in uni, it was still different than talking about his "rehabilitation".

He knew that no way in hell he was gonna mention anything to do with discipline. He still couldn't understand how others brought themselves to talk about it. No, he will spill some details on his drug-dealing past (to appear properly contrite) and then focus on how his life "got better". Alright, that was a load of bull. To keep it believable he made a point to mention a couple of hardships of living with an Alpha. There was a fine line of stretching the truth just enough to appease the BRP officials and crossing it with blatant lies, which probably wouldn't bode well with Derek, either.

Damn it. He'd rather the Alpha was absent again so that he wouldn't have to talk at all. And he did try to get himself out of it.

"Are they keeping track of who is speaking?" Derek asked, considering Stiles's request as he browsed for the new security door and camera system.

"Yeah, you sign yourself in some spreadsheet."

"Then you are speaking. You are speaking every damn time you are there and you make it sound good, is that clear?"

Stiles wasn't really surprised by that response. It was obvious that the more you participated, the more likely the Program won't be extended for an additional 6 months. But it was easy for Derek to growl his threats, he wasn't the one embarrassing himself in front of an audience.

The drive there took only 5 minutes and was over a bit too soon for Stiles's liking. His performance anxiety was growing with every minute, even though he knew it wasn't a big deal. He will probably get over it after a couple of times, other Betas seemed quite comfortable with talking about stuff.

"Stop freaking out," Derek told him, as he parked the car in front of the BRP headquarters.

"I'm not."

Thankfully Derek didn't call him out on his lie. "Here," he said, handing him a small black diffuser, which Stiles recognized right away even without reading the label. "I don't want you to be entirely unprotected."

"A pepper spray?" Stiles asked surprised, examining the bottle.

"You know how to use it, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'd get you a real gun, but that wouldn't bode well with BRP if they found you with it, so this will have to do for now."

"Sure. Thanks," Stiles replied, hiding the spray in his bag. It was a small piece of protection, but it did make him feel better. Of course, it was just as useless against the gun as his confiscated equipment, but then again, Stiles wasn't a target here. They were after Derek and he only got shot at, because he jumped at them screaming 'Police' - not his brightest move.

"Let's go."

As they got out of the car, Stiles noticed a familiar baseball cap.

"Liam!" he called.

The boy was talking to a tall angry looking dude by the entrance and when he turned and saw Stiles, recognition flicked in his eyes and he took off running. Stiles was ready to pursue the brat, but he was caught by the jacket, halting his plan.

"Where do you think you are going?" Derek growled, keeping his voice low but firm.

"It's Liam! The kid that jumped in front of my car. Let go, Derek, he will get away!" Stiles tried to yank his jacked from Derek's hand but the Alpha caught him by the arm instead.

"He already got away. Drop it Stilinski, now is not the time."

"But…"

"_Stiles._"

That successfully silenced any further arguing, as Stiles realized that they were already drawing unnecessary attention.

"Remember where you are," Derek whispered sharply, tightening the grip on his arm.

"Forgive me, Alpha," Stiles replied loud enough for any potential onlookers to hear. He cast his gaze on the floor submissively, therefore he didn't see if Derek rolled his eyes or not, though he had no doubt that the Alpha wanted to.

...

So guess what? Stiles prepared his speech and all, they got the spousal necklaces and had all the BRP activities lined out. And Kira wasn't there. _Great._

It's not that her attendance was the only thing that mattered, but it was still important that Yukimura saw their progress, because ultimately her opinion will be the one that mattered the most.

The group was led by the same bored-looking Omega Ms. Winston, or whatever her name was. After the introduction round, where Stiles simply repeated the same stuff he said last time, the Omega went to talk about some extra activities and events, which Stiles couldn't be arsed to pay attention to, and then the usual program began.

The Betas were called to the blackboard and spoke about their week and their progress. Stiles paid more attention to Derek's reactions than to the stories themselves. They didn't vary much from the last time, and he was quite anxious whether Derek would decide to pick up on his slack. The amount of rules and restrictions that other Betas had was simply nauseating.

"Stop fretting," Derek muttered, subtly nudging Stiles in the ribs, "I can practically smell your anxiety."

"Well, are you gonna get inspired and make my life a living hell after this?" Stiles whispered.

"Are you that afraid of having a bedtime?" Derek replied, his lips twitching in amusement.

"Not funny, Derek."

...

Just as it was Stiles's turn the Omega got up and said that they will be taking a break. The classroom became deserted within seconds. Derek went to get himself a coffee, while Stiles remained rooted to his chair, going over his notes.

"Forget the notes, just talk."

Stiles raised his eyes to see Erica leaning against his table. "Huh?"

"Stiles, right? I'm Erica," the blond introduced herself with a smile.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, not to be rude, but I'm kinda busy right now," Stiles tried to dismiss her politely.

"You need to relax, babe. Go out, clear your head. I'll keep you company," she said winking.

"Thanks, but I'm good here."

"What's that?" Erica asked, taking the pepper spray out of his bag. "Oh cool, a pepper spray. You wanna have some fun?"

"Put that away, Erica!" Stiles snapped, losing his smile, "I know you enjoy getting in trouble, but I don't."

The mischievous spark in her eyes spoke volumes and before Stiles could stop her, the blond sprayed a good portion in the air and ran from the room.

"What the FUCK!" Stiles started coughing and quickly followed the girl outside.

Not paying much attention he ran smack into the tall stern-looking Alpha, which he soon recognized as the one that Liam was talking to.

The man glared at him. "What is this commotion?" he snarled.

There was an alarmed murmur among Betas and a couple of "oh shits", which told Stiles that the dude was bad news. Erica lost the glee in her eyes and looked at Stiles visibly nervous.

The Alpha opened the door and was hit with an acrid smell of the pepper spray. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the crowd till his gaze fell on Stiles again. "Did you bring pepper spray to the BRP group session?"

Stiles felt a sudden dryness in his throat, and he had a feeling it wasn't just from inhaling the pepper spray. "I…"

"Well, that answers it. Get in and open the windows," the guy ordered sternly, giving him a firm shove inside the classroom.

Stiles held his breath and ran to open the windows, which quickly ventilated the room back to normal. Everyone got back inside and took their seat, while Stiles remained in front of the class and nervously searched for Derek. _Fuck, where the hell are you?_

"Stilinski, isn't it?"

"I.. yeah," Stiles croaked and when the Alpha raised an eyebrow, he quickly corrected himself, "I mean, yes Sir. Stiles Stilinski."

"Mr. Douglas, Sir, Stiles didn't…" Erica started to say but was cut off sharply by him.

"Silence Reyes!"

"But it wasn't Stiles' fault!" she persisted.

"Boyd! Control your Beta or I'll kick you both out," he told Erica's Alpha and then switched his attention back to her, "We are all well aware of your attention-seeking habits, Reyes. And I'm not going to indulge it, so sit down and shut your mouth!"

_Whoa… This dude was no joke. _

Stiles gulped nervously, realizing that he somehow got himself in deep shit with what looked like a notorious asshole to be feared. Who was this dude anyway? And where was Ms. The-fuck-is-her-name Omega from before?

"So, Stilinski, why exactly have you decided to sabotage the group session?" Mr. Douglas asked him.

"I didn't. I…"

"What's going on?"

Stiles didn't think he would ever be so happy to hear Derek's voice. The Alpha stood in the doorway holding a cup of coffee, his face a mix of confusion and alarm. His nose picked up on the faint smell and his eyes darted to the pepper spray that was still standing on Stiles's desk.

"Mr. Hale, your reaction tells me that you are aware that your Awarded has a pepper spray. I can only hope you were unaware that he planned to ruin today's group session with it. Conveniently just as it was his turn to speak."

"Derek, I didn't, it wasn't me," Stiles ranted anxiously, but stopped when Derek held up his hand.

"I assure you, he will be dealt with," he told Douglas, casting Stiles a warning glare.

"Yes, he will. He will be dealt with right here, right now," the asshole replied.

Stiles felt like he was going to throw up. He looked at Derek pleadingly, hoping that the Alpha will somehow get him out of this and he will get a chance to explain the situation in private.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," Derek said, his voice polite, but very dominant, almost challenging.

"Garrett Douglas," the man replied arrogantly.

"Mr. Douglas. I don't believe in humiliating my husband to teach him a lesson."

"This will be teaching a lesson everyone around, Mr. Hale. Remember that we are surrounded by criminals. It wouldn't do if anyone got the idea that this was acceptable behavior. I must _insist_ that you correct your spouse to set an example for others. If you want to spare your Awarded the humiliation of being bared for punishment, I expect your punishment to be all the harsher to make up for it."

The man opened the desk drawer, took out a scary-looking rattan cane and handed it to Derek.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!_

Stiles felt on the verge of a panic attack as he watched Derek accept the cane and roll up the sleeve on his right hand. Oh no, this was not happening. He had just been spanked by Derek yesterday and now he was about to be publicly caned?_ Oh god..._

"Bend over."

Stiles stared at the Alpha wide-eyed. He was only vaguely aware of the audience, too focused on his current predicament. "No Derek, you can't..!" he rasped.

"I _said, _bend over," Derek didn't raise his voice, but the way he repeated the command sent a swarm of butterflies to the stomachs of every Beta present.

Stiles felt his throat constrict with hurt and betrayal. Derek was supposed to be in his corner, he was supposed to solve the situation somehow... and he didn't even _try!_

"Please…"

Derek took him by the shoulders, spun him around and firmly lowered his upper body over the desk. Stiles was trembling with a dread of upcoming pain and humiliation. Derek took his wrists and pinned them both on the small on his back. Then he leaned down and whispered, "Keep it believable."

Stiles didn't understand what he meant, and he was too busy freaking out to dwell on it…

He heard a couple of test swishes, which made his blood turn cold. Then a grip on his wrists tightened indicating that the next swing will be a real one. Eyes shut, teeth clenched, his whole body tensed as he heard a sharp whizzing sound. His mouth opened in a silent howl, preparing for the pain that was inevitably about to follow the impact… except it didn't.

The grip on his wrists tightened ever so slightly and the second blow landed with a fearsome thwap. Stiles tensed the same way before the impact and again the pain never came.

He stole a quick glance at Derek and saw the barely visible wince on his otherwise stern expression. The grip on his wrists tightened again and Stiles finally realized what was going on.

_Keep it believable. _Derek must have been somehow absorbing the pain. That was probably why he was holding Stiles' wrists so fiercely, the long sleeves of Derek's shirt allowing it to be inconspicuous.

Stiles let out a sharp breath, his throat getting constricted once more, except now for a whole different reason.

Derek was taking a beating for him.

The next blow was met with a whimper, and all the subsequent ones with a loud howl of 'pain', as Stiles put up an oscar worthy performance of a harshly chastised Beta. Derek gave him(self) a total of 20 and the last couple of blows actually smarted quite a bit but probably not even close to how the real deal would have hurt, given the strength behind Derek's swings.

Stiles didn't have to fake the tremble in his hands nor the wobbly legs, as he kept waiting for the pain to kick in, but even when Derek let go of his wrists and helped him up, steadying him by the shoulders, he still felt only the slightest discomfort. He raised his eyes to meet Derek's, expecting to see resentment or anger but finding only worry and concern. Overwhelmed with feelings of relief, guilt and gratitude and a variety of other emotions he couldn't quite place, he almost hugged the Alpha, but then remembered where he was.

He wanted to say 'thank you' but that wouldn't be an adequate response, so he went with "I'm sorry, Derek." And he meant it, probably in a different way than what everyone expected, but he knew Derek will understand. It was an apology for getting them in this mess, even if it wasn't necessarily his fault.

Derek patted him on the shoulder. "I believe you should apologize to the group as well for the disruption." And yeah that was not a request. Though Stiles expected as much and quickly apologized to the class and then even to the asshole official, just to be sure.

"Thank you," Derek told Douglas, returning the cane.

Well, no one could accuse Derek of being too lenient after that. Even Douglas seemed satisfied with the beating he had dished out.

The Betas looked at Stiles with pity and slight admiration as he carefully lowered himself on the chair. And nope, it still didn't hurt. The Omega official came shortly after but the session was cut short, since no one felt particularly eager to speak after that spectacle, least of all Stiles.

Neither Stiles nor Derek said a word to each other till they got back to the car. Stiles was pretty sure he saw Derek wince as he sat down, even though the Alpha quickly schooled his features. And since it didn't hurt Stiles to sit down, it became obvious that Derek didn't just take the pain, he took it _all_.

"Are you ok?" the Alpha asked him as if it was Stiles who just got a caning. Well technically he was, but you know what I mean.

Stiles disregarded the question. "Show me your ass."

"Wow, Stilinski, you're a real charmer."

"But I'm right, aren't I? You didn't just negate the pain," Stiles stated, ignoring Derek's sarcasm.

The Alpha shook his head, as if unwilling to admit that he did it. "I didn't catch it all, you will probably still have some swelling. I'm not that good at it."

"Yeah, I'm feeling it a bit."

"We'll stop by at the pharmacy. I'm not sure I have the necessary aftercare for this," Derek replied, putting the car in gear.

They purchased an antiseptic, a soothing aloe lotion and a bunch of other medicine just in case. Stiles finally told Derek what actually happened and the Alpha confirmed that he figured it was something of the sort, though he was definitely surprised the douchebag insisted on such a harsh punishment.

Once at home, he took Stiles by the shoulder and pointed at the sofa. "Alright, drop the pants, let's see the damage."

"You first," Stiles replied, not missing a beat.

"This is not how this works, Stilinski."

"I'll show if you show - fair trade."

Derek didn't bother arguing, he simply dragged Stiles over to the sofa and then started unbuttoning his jeans. "In case you didn't get the memo, in this relationship, I tell you what to do, and you do it."

Stiles swatted Derek's hands away with a glare but didn't argue any further. He lowered the pants himself and lay down, letting Derek examine the bit of swelling he got from the cane. Derek grabbed the soothing lotion and applied it carefully on Stiles' naked cheeks, his touch gentle and decidedly not sexual, though Stiles' cock didn't seem to care. He blushed, subtly adjusting himself on the sofa in hopes that Derek wouldn't notice.

Even if he did, he didn't say anything.

"Your turn," Stiles demanded, once he fixed his jeans.

"Stilinski!" the Alpha growled, rolling his eyes as if to say 'we've already been through this'.

"Don't pretend like you are shy," Stiles retorted, "I know for a fact you are not. And I have already seen you naked."

"Unforgettable experience, I'm sure."

"Don't be a dick now. I'm trying to help."

Derek sighed and nodded with a grunt. He handed Stiles the lotion and the antiseptic, lowered his jeans and took Stiles's place on the sofa. Stiles hooked his fingers on Derek's black Calvin Klein boxers and carefully peeled them down revealing the angry welts that ranged from dark red to purplish colors.

"_Fuck_…" Stiles breathed out in shock, realizing that this could have been him.

"You are not gonna faint now, are you?"

But Stiles was too shaken to mind the biting sarcasm. "I… Jesus, I'm so sorry, Derek."

"I'll be fine."

Even knowing that Derek's pain tolerance was incomparable to his own, this had to hurt. Stiles carefully traced his fingers over the swelling bruises where the cane bit the strongest. He saw the goosebumps appearing on the top of Derek's thighs and his lips twitched in a smile.

"Stop staring, Stilinski, and do your job," Derek grumbled irritably, though Stiles could see the tinge of pink color on the back of his neck and ears.

Stiles picked the antiseptic and using a cotton pad applied it carefully where the skin was damaged the most. Derek tensed his muscles but other than that didn't show any sign of pain, even though Stiles was sure it had to sting pretty badly. Then he switched to the lotion and gently massaged it onto the Alpha's firm buttocks.

The pink color on Derek's neck deepened and Stiles smirked. He had a feeling, he was not the only one enjoying the process, but he didn't dare to make a comment on it. Derek would never admit it anyway, just like he wouldn't admit that he cared about Stiles. But his actions spoke louder than words.

"Thank you," Stiles said, his voice quiet, but packed with emotion.

Derek turned his head, he watched Stiles for a moment and then nodded getting up. "You better make sure not to get set up like this again. I won't bother saving your ass next time."

"No more Tom Sawyer?" Stiles joked grinning.

"I'm serious, Stiles. Stop getting in trouble."

"No, I understand. It doesn't look good on paper and doesn't help my case," Stiles agreed, sobering his expression, "That thing you did was really cool though. I've never even heard of such abilities."

"It's actually pretty useless since I can't do it post factum. My body can process injury very fast, but I can only do it as it is happening. And you rarely know about getting injured beforehand."

"So how long will this take you to heal?" Stiles asked curiously.

"I should be fine by tomorrow."

Stiles nodded, expecting something like that. It would probably take him a week to be able to sit properly again. And yes, it wasn't fair, but in this case, he was happy that Derek won't suffer for long. "Did it hurt?" he couldn't help wondering.

Derek finally dropped the tough pretense and chuckled, "Like a_ bitch._"

* * *

_TBC_

_For those of you unfamiliar with Mark Twain's book, Tom Sawyer was a 12-year-old boy, who took a whipping for the girl he liked. She unintentionally ripped the teacher's book and was very scared about getting caned for it, so Tom took the blame and faced the teacher's punishment in her stead. I read it as a child and was very impressed with such a romantic gesture!_

_Happy International Women's Day!_


	10. First day at work

_Author's note: here's a shorter lighthearted chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

True to his word Derek looked completely comfortable sitting down at breakfast the next day. Though when Stiles demanded to see his butt, Derek only raised an eyebrow and told him to mind his own, or he will give him the incentive to do so. Stiles decided to drop it. Not because he actually believed that Derek would punish him for being nosy, but because he didn't want to appear overly eager to undress his Alpha (even though he was).

Derek left after breakfast to look for security doors while Stiles used the free time to focus on his schoolwork. Now that he had an actual job, he had to manage his time better to keep up with his studies.

However shortly after he took out his textbooks, there was a ring at the door. Stiles went to answer it, making sure to check the peephole first. And surprise surprise, the absentee arrived.

He opened the door giving Kira a sour look. "Miss Yukimura," he greeted her coldly.

"Hello Stiles," Kira replied with an uncertain half-smile. "This morning I had a call from an upset Erica Reyes demanding to tell her your home address. Why would that be, Stiles?"

"How should I know?" Alright, that might have been rude, but he was not in the mood to tiptoe around her.

He expected Kira to reprimand him, but her face twisted with concern instead. "I heard about yesterday, Stiles, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he grumbled, choosing not to elaborate.

"So tell me what happened?"

Stiles shook his head sullenly. "Why does it matter, I was already punished."

"It matters to me because I'm evaluating your behavior," she replied calmly.

"I brought pepper spray to the session and it was used," he said, not bothering to keep the bite out of his voice.

"Well, I already figured _who_ used it," Kira noted, "But why would you bring pepper spray with you?"

"Because I'm a _criminal_, isn't that what criminals do?" The venomous sarcasm was perhaps a bit too much, but Stiles didn't care.

Kira sighed tiredly as if he said something she heard many times before. "Stiles, the whole point of the Beta Rehabilitation Program is for the subjects _not _to be treated like criminals. You are put in a home environment with a responsible person to care for you and a balanced program to give you support, stability, and purpose in life. Our goal is to make sure you never feel like a criminal and never have the need to act like one."

Stiles snorted with contempt. It all sounded well on paper, but the reality was quite far off. "Douglas might disagree with your point." The asshole didn't care what actually happened, he picked a scapegoat and forced his Alpha to thrash him.

"Douglas is not even a part of the BRP!" Kira retorted in exasperation, "He is a government official, that we have to put up with. He had no right..."

"Sure, and the easiest way to put up with him, is to simply not show up, huh?" Stiles sneered.

"_Stiles…_"

"Oh by the way - here," he took out his necklace to show it to Kira, "You were worried we don't have them. My '_Responsible Alpha'_ -" he crooked his fingers gesticulating the quotation marks, "- is not home to show you his, but he has one as well."

Kira misunderstood the sarcasm, "Please don't be mad at him, I know that…"

"You think I'm mad at Derek?! Now that's really hilarious," he shook his head in disbelief, "You give the Alphas the responsibility for the Betas, but when they don't agree with your methods you force them anyway!"

"I told you, Douglas had no right to demand that. Not for something like this. Not without hearing everyone out. That was wrong and Derek was well within his right to refuse to follow through."

"And risk the program being extended for another half a year?"

"It wouldn't…"

"Yeah well, there was no one there to tell him that, was there?"

Kira had nothing to say to that.

"Good talk. If there is nothing else, I have stuff to do," Stiles concluded with a fake smile as he started to close the door right in her face.

"Wait, should I give Erica the address? I'm sure she wants to make a proper apology." Kira was probably so surprised by Stiles' rude behavior, she didn't even address it.

"No. I couldn't care less about her apology," Stiles said coldly and closed the door.

And yeah it felt good for about 30 seconds, then he regretted his outburst. It wasn't exactly Kira's fault that Stiles (I mean, Derek) got caned, but then again it wasn't entirely 'not her fault' either. If Douglas "had no right" then why wasn't there anyone to stop him?

Even so, he rarely treated people with such hostility and it never sat well with him after. He contemplated calling her and apologizing but then decided against it, since he still felt kinda angry with her and therefore could potentially make the situation even worse.

* * *

xxx

The Hale Pharmaceuticals office was an 8-story building with the lower 2 floors reserved for Research and Development. Since the uni lecture was canceled that day, Stiles headed straight to his new job to make up the shortfall from last week. He ran around the lab most of the day assisting various people to prepare experiments, process specimens, or just clean the lab equipment. He tried to remember names and order, but all in all, it wasn't all that different from the lab work he did in uni.

The time passed quickly, Stiles quite enjoyed his new job. The people were nice, many of his coworkers were close to his age, and he blended in right away, exchanging jokes and jabs as if they were old friends.

"Stiles Stilinski to floor eight. Stiles Stilinski to floor eight," came the mechanical voice from the intercom.

Stiles wasn't the only one surprised by that announcement. He has never been called by an intercom before - that technology was kinda ancient, though it didn't feel particularly out of place in the lab.

"What's on the 8th floor?" he asked one of his coworkers, whose name if he remembered correctly was Jessica.

"The boss," she replied, giving him a curious look, "That's a bit too soon to be getting the boot, Stiles."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jen," the other girl chipped in, "Why would Hale bother with an intern? The HR would deal with that. No, to be called to the 8th floor, there has to be some special reason. Maybe Stiles is a new pharmaceutical prodigy?" she teased with a playful smile.

_Ok, not Jessica, but Jennifer. Well close enough._

"Or maybe he is a celebrity?" Jennifer replied evenly.

"Or maybe Stiles owes him money?"

"Hmm, you might be onto something there, Jess. I'd say Stiles scratched his car."

_So the redhead is Jessica and the blond one is Jennifer._

"I think he is just in love with me," Stiles joked, taking off his coat and protective glasses.

"Oh yes, surely."

"Hey, what's not to love?"

Jen just rolled her eyes. Even though their lighthearted teasing put Stiles at ease, the guarded looks from the other people in the lab suggested that it wasn't all that common to be called to the 8th floor.

Stiles was both curious and irritated. He wanted to see what Derek's office looked like, but he would definitely prefer it if Derek simply texted him, instead of making a public announcement and drawing unnecessary attention. But then again, the phones were not permitted in the lab, so he wouldn't see the text anyway.

The 8th floor didn't have many offices and was easy to navigate. There was a secretary cubicle in front of Derek's office, but no secretary. Well, who cared? Not like he needed an invitation, he has already been called right? On a _fucking intercom_.

Stiles swung the door open with attitude, "What the fuck are you doing, calling me like…" he halted when he saw Erica and Boyd inside the office. They both looked quite surprised by Stiles's choice of language, while Derek gave him the 'you're so dead' look.

Stiles flushed, closing the door carefully behind him. "I, uhm… I wasn't talking to you, ehm _Sir_, it's just…" he trailed off seeing that nobody in the room was buying it anyway, "So what is this about?" he asked instead.

Erica jumped off her seat and before Stiles had a chance to protest, she enveloped him in a vigorous hug. "I'm so sorry, Stiles! I didn't know Douglas was there. We don't see him much. I'd never do it if I knew."

"You didn't have to do it regardless," Stiles grumbled, trying to catch his breath, though he didn't sound nearly as cold as he did towards Kira the previous day.

The girl finally released him, smiling sheepishly at him. "I'm really sorry."

"You should know that she was thoroughly punished," Boyd said matter-of-factly, which brought a pink blush to Erica's cheeks while Stiles couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"First of all, I don't care," he told the Alpha, "And secondly... come on dude, she _likes_ it!"

"Well, I assure you she didn't enjoy this one," Boyd replied firmly.

Erica blushed deeper red and cast her eyes on the floor, "Yes… Daddy made me…"

"Aaalright, can you NOT include us in your bedroom play, please?" Stiles exclaimed waving his hands wildly.

Boyd didn't seem offended nor uncomfortable. Erica must have slipped with that title on a regular basis. He turned to Derek, "I'd like to apologize to you as well for this situation. I saw how much it pained you to punish him."

"You have no idea," Stiles muttered sarcastically, which earned him another fierce glare from his Alpha.

"If there is a way to make it up to you," Boyd continued, oblivious to the silent communication between the two.

"No need, Mr. Boyd. The apology was quite enough," Derek reassured him readily, probably eager to get rid of the weird couple.

"We won't take any more of your time then," Boyd replied and after another entirely unnecessary hug from Erica, they promptly left the office.

Stiles sighed with exasperation as soon as the door closed behind them, and turned to face Derek who for some unfathomable reason looked pissed.

"_Stiles_," he growled, "Do we need to have a conversation about watching your mouth at the workplace?"

"No, but we need to have a conversation about you summoning me by a fucking intercom to your office!" Stiles replied evenly.

"Well, they asked for your presence," Derek shrugged, entirely unapologetic, "Though I have no idea how they figured out that you work here."

"It must have been Kira. I didn't let her give Erica our home address."

Derek frowned at him. "You saw Kira?"

"Yeah, she stopped by yesterday," Stiles nodded, keeping his voice nonchalant.

"And why am I only hearing about it now?"

"Because I might have been rude to her and then kicked her out, and I figured you would be mad at me, so I didn't tell you."

"_Stilinski!_"

"See, you are mad, so I was right to keep quiet."

Derek opened his mouth in outrage and then closed it again. "I… I have no words!" he snapped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Great, I have nothing else to say on the topic either. See you at home, boss," Stiles chirped cheerfully and quickly left the office before Derek remembered to issue any demerits.

* * *

xxx

As expected, Derek cooled off by the time he came home and they shared dinner in the usual comfortable atmosphere. Derek asked Stiles how his day went, paying close attention to his reply. Stiles didn't know whether Derek's interest sparked from the simple need to get realistic feedback from the lab, or whether he really cared if Stiles liked his job or not. Either way, it was pleasant to see Derek's attentiveness.

"So I spoke to Jordan," Stiles changed the topic, getting serious, "He said we can stop by anytime this week. He has afternoon shifts. I have lectures in the afternoon on Wednesday and Thursday, but I can skip them."

"I'll check my schedule tomorrow. How much did you tell him?"

"Nothing much, I just said, that I need help with something private and that I'll explain in person."

"Alright." Derek got up and poured them both a beer. "So what exactly happened with Kira?"

Stiles grimaced, wishing he didn't have to come clean about that episode. "She asked what happened and wanted to hear my side of the story."

"And?"

"And I told her it doesn't matter, chewed her out for not being there and then shut the door in her face," he answered honestly.

"_Stiles._"

"I know, I know. Don't give me that look."

"Just because 'you know', doesn't mean that I won't reprimand you," Derek said sternly. "You are not 5, you should know how to control your temper and not jeopardize our situation."

"I didn't jeopardize it," Stiles argued, making sure not to sound whiny. "She knows it wasn't me. She must have been the one who told Erica where to find me."

"Still, you will watch your temper and your mouth and you won't withhold such things from me again," Derek replied firmly, pointing a finger at him.

"Fine, I'll tell you next time."

"Let's make sure," Derek said, getting up.

Stiles caught his breath, half expecting to be hauled over the Alpha's knees for a butt warming session, but Derek went in the opposite direction to his desk, and then returned placing a piece of paper and a pen in front of Stiles.

"You are going to write… let's see, how about: 'I'm going to control my temper, use my brain and obey my Alpha'. Two hundred times."

Stiles just gaped at him in disbelief.

"You know how to write, right?"

"Are you serious? You just said I'm not five and now you make me write _lines_?" Stiles exclaimed, his face heating in embarrassment.

"You are being punished."

"I fucking knew it!" Stiles fumed, smacking the table in frustration, "I knew that you were gonna get inspired in the BRP group and treat me like a kid. My life is officially over!"

"Don't be a drama queen, you'll survive," Derek replied without a tinge of sympathy. Stiles kept glaring at him, but the Alpha didn't budge. "Whenever you are ready," he prompted.

Stiles just shook his head grumbling, "Asshole."

"Did I say two hundred? I meant two hundred and fifty."

That successfully shut Stiles up.

...

As Stiles wrote down his lines, Derek cleared the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. Then he brought his laptop to the table, supposedly to keep an eye on Stiles. Which he did quite literally.

"Are you gonna keep staring at me?" Stiles snapped, still aggravated over his punishment.

Derek ignored the biting tone, he seemed amused if anything. "You are my husband I can stare at you whenever I want."

"At least buy me flowers first," Stiles deadpanned.

The Alpha chuckled but didn't reply. "How many have you done?" he asked instead.

"Hundred and two." Stiles twisted his wrist and stretched his fingers demonstratively, but there was no compassion coming from Derek. "By the way, Kira said, you didn't have to do that."

"I know."

Stiles's eyes shot up in surprise, "What do you mean?"

Derek shrugged. "Well, it's not like anyone could actually force me."

"Then why did you?" Stiles asked puzzled.

"It was the safest course of action. There was a possibility that if I refused, Douglas would set out to punish you himself, and I'd rather avoid potential physical confrontation."

The implication that Derek would actually protect him with his fists if needs be, sent a warm feeling to Stiles' chest.

"Besides, if it turned out that he was in the wrong, which seems to be the case, we get one over Kira now," Derek said pointedly, "For when you screw up in the future," he added with a smirk.

"For when _I_ screw up? How about for when _you _screw up?"

Derek's lips twitched, but he didn't smile. "How many?"

"Hundred and two… and a half," Stiles reported and even before seeing 'the look' he capitulated, "Ok, ok, I'm writing, jeez."

Half an hour later there was a knock on the door. Stiles went to answer it and was greeted with a bouquet of roses.

"Stiles Stilinski?" the courier asked. "These are for you, please sign here."

Stiles had no doubt as to who ordered the flowers and he couldn't help chuckling as he read the sign: _"Here are your flowers, brat"_.

Derek looked so fucking smug, Stiles was torn between the desire to punch him and kiss him. He settled for shaking his head, "I want to be mad, but this is actually really hilarious."

Derek didn't reply, just wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Stiles couldn't resist inhaling the lovely aroma of the fresh roses. He has never been given flowers before, even as a joke. He glanced at Derek with what some would call a flirtatious look, "So does this mean, I don't have to finish the lines?"

Derek's lips stretched into one of those predatory smiles. "Not a chance."

* * *

_TBC_

_PS: Stay safe guys!_


	11. A trip to Beacon Hills

_Author's note: I know I'm not updating as regularly as I used to. For some reason, despite having plenty of time to write I'm not nearly as productive as I could be. But I promise I'm OK and keeping myself safe. I've been staying at home on home-office for 3 weeks now because the Czech Republic has been quarantined very fast and managed to prevent the situation from spiraling out of control as we see elsewhere._

_Anyway, I hope you stay safe guys and enjoy the next chapter=)_

* * *

Stiles stifled the third yawn in the last 2 minutes as he glanced around the gym. Derek was uncompromising when he woke him up at an ungodly hour and forced him to run their 3-mile jog. Stiles didn't go without a fight, but as you can imagine, he didn't win that one.

Now his coworkers offered to go to the company's gym and he didn't want to stay alone for the lunch break, even though he was underslept and not in the mood for a workout. But then again, bulking up was not a bad idea, given uhm.. his current living arrangements. Of course, he would never be ripped like Derek, but he could definitely benefit from some toning exercises.

Jess and Jen were already on ellipticals when Stiles joined them. They were both slim, looking really well in their gym clothes. Jessica had her red hair pinned in the high ponytail, wearing fierce makeup and a tight top which created an eye-catching cleavage. Jen had her hair in a messy bun and only a smidgen of mascara, clearly focusing more on the workout, than on how she looked during it.

And Stiles looked like... well, a sleepy Beta, who didn't bother to style his hair since getting up. He jumped on the treadmill for the warm-up. Not that he was particularly eager to run some more, but all the ellipticals were taken at the moment.

"Oh look, the Hot is here," Jen noted, her expression changing to a dreamy one.

"The who?" Stiles asked and then followed her gaze to see Derek on the bench press.

"The hot Hale, the boss," Jess replied, hinting in Derek's direction. "Feast your eyes, Stiles. You don't get to see him in that tank top at the office."

Stiles didn't comment that he had seen Derek wearing much less than a tank top on a regular basis.

"Oh man, do you see those arms? I want to be held by those."

"Forget arms," Jen waved her hand, "Look at that delicious ass."

Stiles wondered what exactly could she see of his ass, while he was lying down, but assumed that it was not the first time the Alpha made an appearance in the gym. Besides, he had seen Derek's ass up close and personal and he couldn't help but agree with her assessment.

"I bet the front is even more impressive."

_Correct again._

"I bet he is a real beast in bed."

_I do wonder..._

"Such an Alpha could take me any time, any place, any way, any hole."

Stiles almost fell from his treadmill after that declaration. The girls laughed watching his flushed expression.

"What do you think, Stiles? You are awfully quiet," Jessica teased him, exchanging a playful look with Jen.

"Uhm, he is ok, I guess," Stiles shrugged, keeping his face impassive.

"Not your type?"

"Not really."

_Liar._

"Liar," Jen said, as if reading his mind, "He is everyone's type."

"Hmm, you saw him tête-à-tête yesterday," Jess remarked, eyeing him slyly, "I bet you wanted him to tie you up, call you his little slut and ride you like there was no tomorrow."

"As a matter of fact I _did not_," Stiles grumbled, "And this conversation is making me uncomfortable."

"Stiles is a virgin," Jess whispered to Jen teasingly.

Stiles rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I hate you both," he said pointing a finger at them. He took his towel and went to refill his cup with water to get a break from all the teasing and drooling.

"You're trying so hard not to look at me," he heard the familiar voice behind him.

"I'm with the girls from the lab," Stiles replied quietly, without turning his head. "They are crushing on you so hard, man."

He heard Derek snort at that. "So you fit right in."

"Fuck you."

"That's _One_."

Stiles turned to see the Alpha's lips twitch with amusement, not even a hint of displeasure on his face. "You really suck at this demerit thing," he shot back defiantly, "You don't even remember, it's actually _Two_."

"And now it's _Three._"

"Obviously," Stiles sneered.

"_Four_," Derek gave him a pointed look, "Go on, Stiles. We can put up a show for them, I'm sure they'd love to see their Dream-Alpha in action." There was only a smidgen of warning in Derek's voice, the rest was all his usual alphahole arrogance.

Stiles was almost tempted to risk it calling his bluff, but after a second of hesitation, his brain kicked in and he realized that putting his reputation at his new job on the line was not worth it.

Derek must have seen that change on Stiles's face and his smirk deepened. "Got anything more to say, Stilinski?"

Stiles shook his head, fuming silently. "No. But just FYI, I really hate you."

Derek chuckled, "Yeah, right."

Stiles returned to the girls, who looked at him with a dose of suspicious curiosity. He ignored them and jumped back on the treadmill, setting up the pace.

"What did you talk about?" Jen asked.

"I told him how he can take you in any hole at any time. He seemed very excited at the idea."

She tilted her head to the side with a 'you don't say' expression. "Uh-huh, then why is he looking at _your _ass and not at mine?"

Stiles glanced at Derek and indeed the Alpha was still regarding him with that victorious arrogant smirk. Stiles wiggled his butt, smacking it playfully. "I guess my butt just looks better," he grinned at the girl.

Jen punched his shoulder with a snort but let go of the topic.

* * *

xxx

Stiles was torn between being excited and worried as they drove to Beacon Hills. He was excited at the prospect of getting a match to a fingerprint on the gun, but at the same time, he was worried that Jordan would demand to know the truth, or that he wouldn't help them, or (and that one was the most worrying) that he would tell his father about it.

Stiles hated lying to his dad. He always felt guilty when he did, so once he got caught selling weed, he pretty much stopped replying to his messages and went kinda off the grid. Scott informed him that Sheriff Stilinski had reached out to him and that Scott had reassured him Stiles was fine, just busy. Stiles picked the time when his dad was on patrol to avoid potential confrontation, and he did feel like a rather shitty son for it.

Derek never brought this topic up. Whether it was because he simply didn't care why Stiles kept his father in the dark, or because he was too polite to ask, Stiles didn't know but he was happy to avoid talking about it.

Jordan was surprisingly understanding when Stiles asked him to keep their visit between themselves. The Alpha was undoubtedly surprised when Derek pulled out a gun in a plastic bag and asked to run a fingerprint on it through the system, but he didn't question them.

Dusting for fingerprints didn't take long, and they managed to salvage a couple of partial ones. Jordan filed them and let the matching program run.

"Now this will take a couple of hours. In the meantime, we could put together a facial composite and try running that through the visual search," Jordan offered.

"How reliable is that?" Derek asked.

"On a scale from 1 to 100, with 100 being the success chance of finding the actual culprit, I'd say around 3, but you never know. Occasionally it can narrow down the search."

"Well, it can't hurt," Stiles shrugged and Derek nodded in agreement.

It turned out that making a visual portrait from both their memories at the same time, was quite a struggle. Both Stiles and Derek had a chance to see the thugs' faces and yet they remembered them completely differently. They argued over everything - the eyes, the brows, the nose, the face shape, etc. In the end, Stiles acknowledged that Derek had a better chance to get a good look at both of them and backed off, letting the Alpha dictate the portraits.

"Stiles?"

Stiles's insides squeezed painfully, hearing his dad's voice. "Hey dad," he greeted cheerfully, putting up a (fake) happy smile and going over to hug his father. He noted how quickly Jordan shut down the facial composite and was relieved that the young deputy didn't plan to sell him out.

"Glad to see you kid, how are you, what brings you here?" the sheriff asked enveloping Stiles in a bear hug.

"Just needed Jordan's help for a school project," Stiles lied readily. The man glanced over at Derek and Stiles cleared his throat to introduce him, "Uhm, this is my friend Derek."

Derek offered his hand with a polite smile which Stiles didn't see very often. "Mr. Stilinski."

The sheriff shook his hand, eyeing him inquisitively. "Derek, huh? Are you the reason I haven't heard from my son for the past couple of weeks?"

Stiles had to give it to Derek - just like with Scott at the dorms, he knew how to put on a boyfriend act way better than Stiles did. Derek's smile turned sheepish, an uncharacteristic rosy blush appearing on his cheeks. "I'm afraid so."

"I see." The warmth and the silent approval that the sheriff regarded them with made Stiles feel like the worst son in the world. "You should come over for dinner tonight, I'm making burgers."

"Sorry dad, I have this paper due tomorrow, we have to get back to Baker after this."

Stiles winced inwardly watching his dad mask his disappointment behind a badly executed cheerful smile. Putting that expression on his face was tearing Stiles apart and he vowed to make it up to him after this whole thing was over.

"Well, perhaps another time then," the sheriff said, visibly trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He waved them goodbye and turned to leave. "Parrish, let me know if there is any news on … wait a minute…"

Stiles followed his dad's gaze and his stomach dropped. As he and Derek were leaning over the computer, their necklaces with matching rings fell out of their t-shirts.

* * *

xxx

"So how long were you planning to keep this from me?!" his dad fumed, pacing furiously in his office.

Stiles didn't remember when was the last time he saw his father quite this mad. He probably never got himself in _that_ much trouble before. Even though he was technically an adult now, he cared greatly about his father's approval and felt horrible about disappointing him. "Uhm… for half a year?" he offered timidly.

"So in other words, you were not going to tell me at all!" the sheriff concluded, glaring at him.

"I'm sorry dad, I didn't want to worry you."

"If you didn't want to worry me, perhaps you wouldn't be selling weed? I can't believe it, Stiles! I must have gone somewhere very wrong with you if this is how you turned out! Sheriff's son - a drug dealer! I knew I was too lenient with you!"

Stiles hunched his shoulders feeling very small. "It was just weed…" he trailed off, realizing what a shitty excuse that was. "I'm sorry! I didn't want to ask you for money."

"Because you are all grown up and independent! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't drag you home by the ear and lock you in your room till you graduate?!"

"Mr. Stilinski, that would be…" Derek tried to reason with him, but the sheriff cut him off.

"You be quiet, Mister! You dragged my son into this mess and then forced him into marriage! Unless you want to spend the night in the holding cell, you better keep your mouth shut while I speak to my son!"

"Yes, Sir." Derek hung his head down in submission. Surprisingly enough, the response didn't feel out of place and showed respect rather than weakness. Sheriff Stilinski might have been a strong no-nonsense Alpha, but he still had nothing on Derek. Stiles had no doubt that Derek was not intimidated by his father nor his threat. It was probably Derek's old fashioned upbringing that forced him to respectfully submit to an older Alpha.

"Dad, it's not like that. We were forced into this arrangement, neither of us is happy about it."

"And yet, you are the one being rehabilitated, not him."

"I don't think it's such a win. Anything I do puts his neck on the line. He already paid a five thousand dollar fine when I crushed my jeep." As soon as the words left his mouth, Stiles knew he blabbered too much.

"You crushed your jeep?!" the sheriff bellowed, "When?! How?! And again, you didn't tell me?!"

Stiles grimaced, squeezing himself onto the chair and leaning towards Derek on instinct. "I'm sorry, dad. But it's fine, the jeep is fine, I'm fine, it was no biggie," he tried to downplay it, but his dad didn't look convinced. "Look, Derek is right, you can't lock me up even though I probably deserve it, because that would hinder the Program. Whether we like it or not, we are stuck with it for the foreseeable future and we are doing our best for it to be over as soon as possible. All things considered, this could have turned out way worse for me. This way I still go on with my life as if nothing happened and after the BRP is over I won't even have a criminal record."

The sheriff sighed heavily, shaking his head in defeat. "I really ought to whip you for my trouble."

Stiles knew that that phrase meant the exact opposite and that his dad always said it when Stiles managed to talk himself out of yet another trouble. But Derek didn't know that. Up until this point, the Alpha was just sitting passively, letting Stiles deal with his dad (or rather letting the sheriff read them the riot act), but now he straightened his back and lifted his chin, his gaze hardening as he addressed the older Alpha.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Sir."

The sheriff's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Derek stood up to face his father eye to eye. "I'm responsible for Stiles's discipline now."

Unsurprisingly, his dad didn't take kindly to being challenged. "If you ever lay as much as a finger on my son…" he growled threateningly and Stiles sensed the confrontation was about to get out of hand when Derek's eyes darkened with flashes of red.

"Whoa! Alright, alright - Break!" he called, waving his hands as he squeezed himself between the Alphas. It was kind of ridiculous for the two to be at each other's throats because both of them wanted to protect Stiles from the other. "Derek, dad didn't actually mean that," he told his Alpha and then turned to his father, "And dad, you don't have to worry about me, Derek has been good to me. Great even."

Stiles felt Derek's gaze on him as he said it and tried to will his cheeks not to blush. He clearly failed, because his father quirked an eyebrow, probably picking up on Stiles's attraction towards the young Alpha. Thankfully he didn't say anything, only relaxed his posture and took a step back. Derek did the same.

"I promise to keep you posted from now on dad. I'm sorry I went AWOL," Stiles said, adapting a sad puppy look and then going for the kill, "I just hate disappointing you."

He knew his dad forgave him when he was pulled in a tight embrace. Stiles melted in it, grateful to have a parent who accepted him no matter what. He felt a bit self-conscious for the mushy display of affection but then he glanced at Derek and the man didn't seem to be paying them much attention. He had this faraway look, eyes unfocused as if he was not even present in the room. There was a barely perceptible hint of longing in his stare which gave away the direction of his thoughts - his lost family.

* * *

xxx

"Do you miss them?" Stiles asked Derek as they were driving back.

Derek didn't pretend he didn't understand who Stiles meant, but he wasn't in a hurry to answer either. When Stiles thought that he wouldn't acknowledge the question at all, Derek sighed, "Every damn day. And every time I catch myself not thinking about them, I feel like shit for 'forgetting'."

Stiles nodded in sympathy. "I know how that feels. My mom died when I was 10. Frontotemporal dementia - nasty disease. I felt guilty every time I left the hospital and went to school, even though she often didn't even recognize me by the end. When she passed I was sure, that nothing will ever be well again, that I will never be happy, that the world will remain bleak and colorless. Then my birthday came and dad threw a party for me. I had friends over and we were having so much fun, I didn't think even once about my mom. Once everyone left and I realized that I forgot about my grief, I started crying feeling like the worst person in the world for having fun."

Derek was silent for a while. "And now?" he asked, as he parked the car in the garage.

"And now I know my mom wouldn't want me to be miserable for the rest of my life."

Derek didn't say anything to that. Stiles knew their situations were hardly the same. His mom died of the disease, while Derek's family was _killed_ (likely by the only living relative he still had). Stiles had something Derek did not - closure.

As they reached the door to the apartment, Stiles took out the keys, but they slipped out of his hand and Derek caught them with a quick reflex, even though his back was turned at the time.

"Damn, those reflexes, man," Stiles shook his head, still impressed by his Alpha's prowess despite seeing it on a daily basis.

"Yeah, I'm _that_ good. Great even," Derek repeated Stiles's words, smirking down at him arrogantly.

"You're such a conceited cocky…"

"Careful Stiles. You are already on _Four_, are you sure you want to reach _Five_?"

Stiles flushed at the reminder but puffed his chest tauntingly anyway. "You think I'm scared? What are you gonna do anyway?"

He never actually got to five demerits. Derek mostly issued them to throw his weight around, but he always stopped before reaching the limit.

"Push me and find out."

And _that_ was not a threat. _That_ was an invitation. It was not the first time Derek used intimidation as a sort of weird flirting.

Derek was a dick. The dick that felt it was ok to breach Stiles's personal space whenever he pleased. And that's what he was doing right now - with his body leaned over, crowding Stiles against the wall, his hand casually blocking Stiles's exit, his (too fucking handsome) face too close for comfort and his (too fucking kissable) lips curled into an arrogant smirk. And on top of that, there was this signature 'elevator smell' (Derek's cologne mixed with his utterly intoxicating personal scent) that was driving Stiles crazy since day one.

Stiles couldn't help staring at his mouth. It would take almost no effort to reach out and taste those lips. And the way Derek was looking at him right now, he might even...

Stiles's phone rang, breaking the spell and when he saw it was Jordan, he quickly picked up.

"Stiles, hi, I just finished running the fingerprints. Sorry, there's nothing. I'll run it one more time, just to be sure. The visual search is still processing, so I'll call you tomorrow. You guys ok?"

Jordan must have heard some of the dressing down from the sheriff's office. His father didn't bother being discreet or keeping his voice down. It was sweet of him to check on them, even though otherwise he was not bearing good news.

"Yeah, we're fine. Thanks, Jordan. Talk to you tomorrow."

Stiles looked at Derek apologetically. The Alpha was still close enough to hear what Jordan had said, and the only sign of disappointment on his face was the barely visible tightening of his jaw.

"I'm sorry," Stiles muttered, disappointed as well and on more than one account. If he could just go back in time 30 seconds and make the move instead of answering the phone...

"It's fine," the Alpha said, pulling back from him and letting him breathe.

Except Stiles didn't want to 'breathe', he wanted to find out… but now the moment was gone.

* * *

_TBC_


	12. For fuck's sake, Stiles!

The fingerprints didn't give any match on the second try either, which was a real bummer. The facial composite gave 5 and 0 results on strict resemblance, 25 and 2 on medium and 17 255 and 12 411 on loose resemblance settings. Unfortunately, the culprits were not found among the easy options so Stiles and Derek were in for some obnoxiously (nearly 30k) long process of face checking.

Jordan advised them to go through it together, take at least 5 seconds per image and never go for longer than 10 minutes at a time, to keep the focus on. Because one would be tempted to just zerg through it and then the whole time would be wasted if you accidentally skip through _the one_ face you were looking for.

Stiles and Derek agreed to do at least 1000 a day and the first day they did even 2000, but they ran out of steam very fast after that and most of the time had troubles to even reach the designated thousand.

Stiles had exams approaching, which also meant that a lot of projects were close to their deadlines. As any proper university student procrastinator, Stiles was slowly but surely starting to feel the heat beneath his ass, as his time for studying was also cut in half by his part-time job, which he needed in order to pay off the repairs on his jeep and just for cash. His savings were slowly but surely running dry and while Derek covered the lion share of expenses, there was no way in hell Stiles would ask him for pocket money.

"Hey, dude, need some grass? I have Panama Gold, going cheap at 10 per gram."

Stiles froze and not just because somebody offered him weed on the university campus, but because he recognized that voice. "Liam?" he asked surprised, as he turned around and came face to face with the baseball cap he remembered all too well.

"Stiles, hey. Wanna buy?" the boy replied, keeping his voice down despite the fact that there was nobody within an earshot.

"You're _dealing_?" Stiles whispered scandalized, "Jesus, how old are you?" He didn't mean for it to come off quite as reproachful as it probably did, because the boy lifted his chin in a full-blown teenage defiance 'none of your business' look. It also revealed a fresh bruise on his jawline and a broken lip.

"Are you buying or not?" he snapped.

"What happened to you?" Stiles countered the question with his own. He was about to lift the boy's chin to get a better look but Liam swatted his hand away shaking his head.

"Forget it," he said, and turned around to walk away, but Stiles grabbed his hoodie, halting his escape.

"Not so fast. I want to buy some, but I have no cash on me, so how about you join me for a quick detour to my place?" Stiles offered, flashing him a quick reassuring smile.

Of course, he had no intention to buy weed, he was not suicidal. But he wanted to help the kid, to treat his injury and to get him to talk about why was he constantly wearing bruises, and why was he selling weed at his age.

Liam narrowed his eyes as if to call bullshit on that, but then he shrugged and agreed instead.

* * *

xxx

"Where do you get the product?" Stiles asked conversationally as they drove to the apartment. He needed to break the ice somehow and he figured he could use his own 'expertise' on the topic for that.

Liam gave him an incredulous look.

"Just professional curiosity," Stiles reassured him, lest the boy thought he was a cop or something. "I have some experience with selling."

"All the more reason not to tell you then."

Huh. The boy was smart. And fast. But then why was he always beat up whenever Stiles saw him?

"Do you have product on you?"

"Never more than a couple grams. I'm not _stupid_," the teen grumbled with attitude.

"Then what's with the face?" Stiles asked evenly.

Liam scowled at him. "No offense Stiles, but it's none of your fucking business."

Well, that kinda answered it. The kid was lippy, even to a potential customer and while Stiles had no intention to punch him for disrespect, others might have been less forgiving.

"You said you're not stupid and yet you just mouthed off to a customer, who is bigger and stronger than you and has you all alone in a car," Stiles replied giving him a pointed look. He didn't mean it as a threat but he saw how Liam tensed in his seat. He didn't want the kid to fear him, but perhaps it would help him to think before he ran his mouth next time.

_Yeah, like you are the epitome of politeness and critical thinking,_ his inner voice reminded him sarcastically._ The sheer amount of cheek you give Derek on a daily basis would earn you a walloping with literally any other Responsible Alpha out there._

Stiles heard enough during the BRP group sessions to realize that even though Derek was a dick, he was way more lenient with him than other RAs would have been. But then again, Stiles _would_ have been more careful with other Alphas, right? At least he would like to believe so. With Derek, it was just different… the constant bickering was kinda 'their thing'.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."

Stiles glanced at the teen by his side. Liam didn't look scared since he'd probably figured that Stiles was not one to favor his fists to do the talking. But he did look sheepish as if he really didn't mean to offend him.

"It's fine," Stiles waved his hand, "But that is one of the reasons a kid of twelve shouldn't be doing what you are doing."

"I'm fourteen!" Liam corrected him with a scandalized expression.

"You are?"

"Well, next month anyway," the boy shrugged, blushing slightly.

"My apologies," Stiles said with a smile, knowing how sensitive the boys (especially short and cute ones) could be about their age. "However my point still stands."

Liam didn't reply. He stared sulkily out the window and Stiles figured that the topic was closed for now. Well hopefully, he will get him to talk again once he treated his face and fed him a meal.

* * *

xxx

"Nice place," Liam commented when they entered the apartment.

Stiles glanced around as if being there for the first time and chuckled, "Yeah, it is."

He hated it at first. Though truth be told, he hated everything that was Derek-related at the time, and that obviously changed since then. He still thought that the apartment was not worthy of Derek's wealth, but over time he grew fond of it nonetheless. It was not cozy per se, but it was comfortable and had a nice view. He enjoyed the quiet evenings in the living room with Derek working on his laptop and Stiles lying down on the sofa, pretending to study. Somewhere along the way, the apartment started to feel like home.

"Sit," Stiles instructed, pointing at the couch and went to fetch the medkit from the kitchen. Liam gave him a sour look when he saw it but didn't protest as Stiles cleaned and disinfected his broken lip.

"You are not buying after all, huh?"

Stiles had to give it to the boy, he was observant and cautious - both skills undoubtedly acquired from dealing on the streets. Stiles would bet Liam was not a newbie either and he had probably guessed Stiles was not going to buy already at the campus. But then why did he go with him?

Perhaps the boy _wanted_ to be saved after all. Stiles just had to break down the barriers and get him to talk.

"Sorry, kid," he shook his head apologetically, "But I'll do you one better. How does pizza sound?"

Liam gave him a skeptical look, which probably meant that in no way was pizza better than cash, but then he shrugged again and nodded. Stiles patted his shoulder with a wink and disappeared into the kitchen to go through their frozen stuff. He was pretty sure he saw some pizza there.

Once he placed the pizza in the oven and set up a timer, he returned to the living room and frowned when he didn't immediately spot the kid.

"Liam?"

_Perhaps he went to the toilet? _But the teen was not in the toilet, nor bathroom nor in any other room. _Dammit._

Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. As soon as Liam realized that there will be no business, he just left. Without even bothering to say goodbye. That was rude if anything, not like Stiles gave him any reason to…

Stiles caught his breath as his gaze fell on Derek's desk. The desk that usually had Derek's laptop on it. Except now it didn't.

_Oh, no, no, no, no! _This couldn't be! Surely Liam wouldn't pinch a laptop, would he? Unless he was desperate and really needed money…

_Fuck!_

Stiles went to check Derek's room in case the Alpha took it to bed the previous night. But no, it wasn't in the bedroom either. But in theory, he could still take it to work, right?

Panicking Stiles dialed Derek's number, but after two short dial tones it went to the voicemail and the next second his phone beeped with an incoming message: _"I'm on the meeting."_

Stiles quickly texted him: _"It's important!"_ and in 2 minutes Derek was calling him back.

"What is it?" the Alpha demanded curtly.

"Hey, uhm… have you.. uhm, by any chance, taken your laptop to work with you today?"

"No. What's going on?"

"It's gone."

"_Shit_... They got in again? 'Best security door' my ass," Derek groused, "Get out of there Stiles, go to Scott or something. I'll come as soon as possible."

"No, no, no. No one broke in… it was.. uhm..." Stiles contemplated how to phrase it better.

"Spill it Stilinski!" Derek snapped impatiently.

"It was Liam! I saw the kid and he was hurt, so I brought him home and…"

"For fuck's sake, Stiles!"

_Uh-oh… he sounds piiiissed._

"I didn't know he would do that! Can you block the laptop remotely?"

"Yes, I'm on it."

"I'm sorry, Derek," Stiles said but the line went dead already.

* * *

xxx

By the time Derek came home, Stiles went through all 5 stages of grief. He started with denial, trying to find alternative possibilities for what happened to Derek's laptop, but he moved on past that one fairly quickly since it was pretty obvious it was the kid who took it.

The anger stage lasted longer, because why the fuck would Liam do that when Stiles was nothing but nice to him? How could he misjudge Liam's character this badly? And why would Derek leisurely leave his laptop on his desk?

Ok, getting mad at Derek of all people was a stretch, but Stiles couldn't help fretting over the Alpha's reaction, and his anxiety gave way to misdirected anger.

He breezed over the 'what if' stage straight into depression, which hit him the hardest. And not because he was mourning the loss of the laptop. No, he was waving goodbye to his sitting ability, because he was sure as hell he was in for it. And that was not even the worst. He hated that he had yet again caused trouble and this time he couldn't even shift the blame to anyone. He brought a juggler from the streets into their home and left him alone with ample opportunity to steal whatever he needed.

And as usual, it was Derek who ultimately paid for his mistake. Just like when Stiles crashed his jeep or when Erika used the pepper spray, Derek was the one to take the fall without having anything to do with it. And Stiles felt like shit for it. There was a level of trust that Derek put in him when he told him about his family and accepted his help and Stiles really, _really_ didn't want to break that trust.

That's when he decided to acknowledge the fact that he just royally fucked up and accept whatever consequences Derek would deem necessary without argument.

"Hey, you're home," Stiles greeted Derek from the armchair, where he spent the last couple of hours hugging his knees and staring blankly in his textbooks because he was supposed to be studying.

Derek went straight for a bottle of beer, he looked worn out and angry and Stiles could only assume that his day at work was no picnic either. He cast Stiles an annoyed glance which could be interpreted as 'and now I have to deal with _you_ too' and flopped down on the couch opposite of him. "Tell me, what happened," he demanded, his tone leaving no doubt just how displeased he was with Stiles.

"I was about to go home when I saw Liam."

"At UC Baker? What was Liam doing there?" Derek asked, frowning.

Stiles grimaced, knowing that Derek was not going to like the truth. "Selling weed."

"Alright. That's a promising start," Derek deadpanned and any other time Stiles would have been annoyed with him, except now he felt too guilty to backtalk. "So? Did you buy some?"

"No, I'm not stupid!" Stiles shot back and then amended his tone somewhat, "Or at least not _that_ stupid. Look, the kid is obviously mistreated at home, I mean his face was freshly sucker-punched just like the last time I saw him. I wanted to help."

"Did it ever occur to you to actually run it by me before you drag another stray in here?"

"He was hungry and hurt!"

"Which made you unable to pick up your phone and call me?"

That was a valid point and Stiles had nothing to say to that. "I'm sorry, Derek. I didn't expect him to steal anything. I guess he was really desperate for cash."

"That's beside the point, Stiles! You can't keep doing that. I'm your Alpha and regardless of how you feel about it, you can't just keep going over my head whenever you think I might disagree with you! Like, what do you expect me to do now?"

Stiles hunched his shoulders at the angry tirade. He knew Derek would be mad, but it didn't make it any easier. "Forgive and forget?"

Derek shook his head glaring at him. "I had important stuff on that laptop."

"Don't you have a backup?"

"I do, but again - that is not the point!" the Alpha growled. "It doesn't mean that I'm fine with some random punk stealing my shit. And it doesn't mean that I'm fine that you yet again failed to consult me on something you knew very well you should have."

"I'm sorry."

Derek gave him a long stare, the inner battle clear on his face. "Sorry is not going to cut it this time," he finally said.

Stiles felt his stomach drop. He expected this outcome all along, prepared for it even. But now that Derek actually confirmed it, he couldn't help wishing he could get himself out of this predicament.

However, he did spend the last hour persuading himself not to make a fuss over his punishment and he felt guilty enough to agree that he probably deserved it.

"Alright," Stiles croaked, his mouth going dry, "Where do you want me?"

A hint of surprise flicked on Derek's face. Obviously he didn't expect Stiles to submit to discipline that easily. He motioned for Stiles to come to him and Stiles gave a sigh of relief when Derek didn't remove his belt.

Reluctantly he walked over to the Alpha, who reached out to unzip his jeans. Stiles grabbed his sleeve anxiously but didn't try to stop him. Derek raised his eyes in a silent question and Stiles bit his lip but then gave a short nod. It's not like Derek really _needed_ his permission but Stiles vowed to be compliant, even if it meant extra humiliation.

Stiles's face was hot with shame when Derek guided him over his lap and pulled down his boxers. He hated the vulnerable feeling this position engendered, he grabbed the cushion and buried his face in it. The tears started prickling his eyes before Derek even laid a hand on him.

The Alpha didn't bother to lecture him as he spanked. He didn't have to, Stiles already felt awfully guilty. He tried to submit to the discipline and keep himself in position, but it hurt and all too soon the quiet whimpers started escaping his mouth.

"I'm sorry!" Stiles apologized again, hating to have the Alpha so put out with him. Derek didn't acknowledge the apology and just continued to land measured slaps on his already sore bottom.

Stiles was not particularly good at dealing with pain but that was not the reason tears were stinging his eyes. It was the silent disapproval driven home with every punishing swat, that made him feel absolutely awful.

"Please," he whined pitifully, his voice muffled through the pillow.

The next smack was merely a pat and the subsequent one, not even that. He heard a deep sigh as Derek rested his hands on his back, rubbing it softly.

For a while no one said anything. Stiles wasn't sure whether the punishment was over since it was way shorter than the last one. He didn't want the reprieve to end, but he needed to make sure that that was it.

"Are you still mad?" he asked tentatively.

Derek let out another deep sigh, "More like frustrated. And disappointed."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"That's worse. Go back to being mad," Stiles quipped.

Derek chuckled and smacked him again. "Brat!" though his tone didn't sound nearly as tired and frustrated anymore. His hands moved from Stiles's back to cup his hot ass.

Stiles found that attention pleasant on several fronts. Derek rubbed his sore cheeks and Stiles found himself growing hard because the Alpha's touch was just on this side of not-so-innocent. Every now and then his fingers 'accidentally' brushed over his crack, sending hot sensations straight to Stiles's dick. And Stiles might have felt self-conscious over his reaction, except he felt Derek's own erection poking him in the hip.

This continued for several minutes. Stiles didn't want it to stop, but he was getting increasingly needy, and this aftercare(?), teasing(?) or whatever it was, was driving him mad. When the precum stained his boxers and he was about to start dry humping Derek's thigh, he finally broke the silence. "Derek?"

The hands immediately left his butt and his underwear was pulled back in place. Derek helped him off his lap and Stiles felt like slapping himself for not keeping his big fat mouth shut.

They stared at each other, neither acknowledging the fact that they were both hard. Stiles couldn't read anything in Derek's gaze. Did he do it on purpose or was he only trying to provide comfort? Or maybe he did it on purpose but then thought better of it? If only there was even a hint that Derek wanted more, Stiles wouldn't hesitate to make the first move, but he couldn't read the Alpha whatsoever.

So after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a couple of seconds, Stiles broke the eye contact, pulled his pants back up and left the room without another word.

He made a beeline for his bedroom and without bothering to put on the porn or grab a lube he palmed his aching dick and jerked off wildly to the memory of Derek's fingers between his ass cheeks. In the midst of orgasm which came embarrassingly soon, he couldn't help wondering if Derek was doing the same in his own room.

* * *

_TBC_

_Happy Easter, guys=)_


	13. Unresolved sexual tension

Stiles thought that things would be awkward after what happened that afternoon. And not because Derek spanked him, that actually felt almost normal by now. Well, not really, but not nearly as mortifying as the first time it happened. No, it was the _aftercare_ that almost led to a 'happy ending' before abruptly stopping midway, which could bring about a certain level of awkwardness between them.

However, it turned out that if both of you pretended as if nothing happened, it was actually not awkward at all.

Stiles made the frozen pizza he started for Liam and after grabbing a couple of slices, he and Derek sat down for their usual face-checking routine. Neither said anything about what happened and even if there might have been some initial tension from Stiles, a couple of Derek's usual dickish comments quickly put him at ease.

The face-checking was a strenuous unrewarding thing. There was absolutely no guarantee that the two thugs were even within those results. It's just that there were no other leads that they could pursue at the moment, which forced them to sit and patiently click through criminal portraits.

Stiles was one to dismiss a new face with a bored "no" as soon as he saw it, while Derek usually took his time and spent the mandatory 5 seconds that Jordan recommended them, before clicking to the next one.

They were halfway through the designated 1000 when Derek suddenly tensed and straightened his back turning his head towards the door. Stiles followed his gaze and then looked back at him in a silent question.

Derek raised a finger to his lips and stealthily walked to the door. Without checking the peephole, he flung the door open and seized somebody on the other side, shoving him inside the apartment none-too-gently.

"Oh look who do we have here," Derek growled, his eyes glowing with fearsome dark red color, as he grabbed the intruder by the collar of his t-shirt, "Liam, I assume."

"I…. uhm…" Liam looked at Derek wide-eyed and then his gaze darted to Stiles in a silent plea for mercy.

"What are you doing here?" the Alpha demanded, his fangs descending demonstratively, which made the boy positively blanch. Even Stiles felt uneasy at this level of intimidation, even though it wasn't directed at him.

"I j-just brought the l-laptop," Liam stammered, cowering as if expected to be hit, but Derek was unswayed.

"Why? Couldn't sell it?" he kept pressing the kid with his angry dominance.

"N-No…"

"So you came back to find something else that you could?"

"Derek!" Stiles forgot just how scary Derek could be.

"Shut up, Stiles!" the Alpha barked before returning his glare onto the teenager.

"That's not why I came!" Liam argued, finally finding his voice.

"So what do you want?!"

"Nothing!" the kid yelled, "I brought it back because I felt like shit for stealing from the only person who's ever been nice to me!" he fumed, glaring back at Derek full-on teenage attitude that Stiles witnessed earlier that day.

Derek finally let go of his collar and Liam cast an apologetic glance towards Stiles. "I'm really sorry, Stiles. I… I didn't touch it, or anything, I swear. I… I'll go now," he mumbled, unable to keep eye contact with Stiles and quickly made towards the door.

"Not another step!" Derek growled, the stern command freezing the boy on spot. "Come back here, punk." That was not a request and Derek was still oozing authority and danger.

Liam eyed Stiles as if he was supposed to save him, and reluctantly dragged his feet back to the Alpha. Derek took his jaw, his grip firm and unyielding, as he examined the bruise on his cheek.

"That's a new one," Stiles noted, "He only had a broken lip earlier today."

"Eyes up!" came a sharp command, and Liam obediently met Derek's gaze. "How did you get this?" Derek inquired steelily.

Liam didn't say anything. He clenched his fists visibly fighting the tremble as he continued to stare at Derek in a display of fake bravado.

"I asked you a question!"

Derek's menacing growl and eye color made Stiles shiver as if the temperature dropped in the room. He saw fear in Liam's eyes and he couldn't stand this any longer. He came over and cuffed his husband up the head soundly. "Stop bullying him, for fuck's sake, and let me treat it!"

Derek was so surprised to receive a physical rebuke from him, that he let go of Liam and stared at Stiles dumbfounded. Stiles would have probably found his expression funny, but he purposely ignored it and focused on getting the kid away from him.

He had no doubt that any other time, he would be twisted into a pretzel on the floor with the Alpha growling angry threats in his ear before his hand even grazed Derek's precious gelled hair. Derek wouldn't hesitate to put him swiftly back in his place and remind him who was the Alpha here. But he caught Derek off guard which explained the lack of retaliation, though he might still pay for it later. He decided to cross that bridge when he got to it.

He took Liam by the shoulder and led him to the kitchen where he took out the medkit, much like a couple of hours ago. "Damn kid… what happened to you…" he muttered softly, as he carefully applied the bruise cream on a fresh shiner. But even Stiles' contrastingly gentle approach didn't crack the kid.

Derek came in shortly after, and when Liam ignored Stiles's question, he pointed a finger at the teen, "Answer the question," he demanded firmly, though he appreciably toned down his intimidation act.

Liam scowled, then dropped his gaze to his lap. "I fell."

"Nice one," Derek deadpanned, "Care to try again?"

"I fell!" Liam repeated stubbornly, meeting his eyes.

"On somebody's fist."

"And if so, what's it to you? Why do you care?"

"I don't," Derek replied coldly, "But my husband does."

"Liam, you can tell us," Stiles said, squeezing his shoulder.

For a second something vulnerable flicked in the boy's face, but very soon it was hidden behind the defiant mask. "This 'good cop bad cop' thing that you are doing, is not going to work."

"Is that what we are doing?" Stiles asked surprised and realized that they kinda were.

Derek refused to get sidetracked though. "You are dealing. What's the money for?"

"That's a stupid question. Everyone needs money. What's_ your _money for?" Liam retorted, full attitude on display.

Derek was not impressed. "I'm an adult. You are a street juggler who just swiped my laptop."

"So what? You gonna call the cops?"

"I might. That depends on your answer."

Stiles noted how squirmy Liam got at the mention of law enforcement. He remembered how quickly the kid vamoosed from the crash, when they heard the approaching sound of sirens, even though Liam was the one to call them.

The boy glared defiantly at Derek but when the Alpha didn't budge, he just shrugged. "A man's gotta eat."

Stiles couldn't tell if it was the truth or not. The kid was skinny, but many were at his age. Though given all the bruises on Liam's face, he wouldn't be surprised if he was underfed as well.

"And yet you ran away from pizza," Stiles noted.

Liam gave him the 'are you stupid?' kind of look and groused, "A MacBook would feed me for longer than a pizza." As if to support that claim, his stomach gave a loud rumble. He flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly to mask the sound which, of course, it didn't.

"I have a proposition then," Stiles said. "You can come at any time when you are hungry and I'll feed you. On one condition - no more dealing and no more stealing."

A myriad of emotions went through the boy's face - surprise, guilt, hope, suspicion. He narrowed his eyes at Stiles and then glanced at Derek, but the Alpha kept an impeccable poker face.

"How will you know?"

"Because you will tell me," Stiles said firmly. He knew now that he didn't misread the kid. Liam did the right thing when it mattered. He called the ambulance for Stiles, he brought the laptop back. He was a good kid, he just needed help.

"And because next time, it will be cops," Derek added.

Stiles cast him a quick grateful smile. Derek might have just threatened the boy again, but he didn't protest against Stiles' agenda, meaning he was on board.

* * *

xxx

It didn't seem like Liam was entirely persuaded that Stiles meant what he said. Not even after Derek ordered a pizza delivery and gave him the whole box. And that was fine, Stiles believed that the kid would at least test the theory. He had nothing to lose. Neither Stiles nor even Derek (despite all the growling) gave him an actual reason not to come.

Stiles gave Liam his number and told him to call him whenever. He hoped the boy would take him up on the offer and Stiles would eventually get him to talk.

Derek was almost friendly by the end. Ok, friendly might be a strong word, but he stopped growling and glaring after Liam agreed to the deal.

Stiles expected that once the kid left, he would get an earful about how he overstepped and just offered the kid to come 'any time' without consulting him. But Derek didn't say a word. Not even about Stiles's absolutely daring gesture of cuffing him up the head. He anticipated at least some threats about breaking all his fingers and whatnot, but none came.

Derek was a private person, that much was obvious. It was one of the reasons he was so upset with Stiles when he just invited somebody over without telling him. Just like with Ruby, it burst his comfort bubble. And yet he didn't forbid Liam to set foot in the apartment ever again and Stiles had no doubt that it wasn't because he suddenly grew fond of the young delinquent. No, he probably didn't care just as he said, but he knew that Stiles did.

Stiles smiled to himself as he dipped the last piece of sushi in the soy sauce. He always thought that Derek's nasty character outweighed his good looks but lately, the Alpha kept proving him wrong. He had his own flavor of 'nice', which was an acquired taste… or to be precise, the taste that Stiles already acquired.

Stiles's lunch break was ending soon and he had to get back to the lab. Without giving himself an opportunity to second guess his actions, he got up and went to order an extra portion of Derek's favorites. _Might as well do something nice for him, for a change._

As the elevator climbed up to the 8th floor, Stiles felt very much like a twitchy Omega waifu from a shoujo anime bringing a bento for her love interest. But when he tried to enter Derek's office he was promptly stopped by his secretary. His very pretty, very blond, very well endowed, and very enticing secretary.

"Excuse me. Hold on! Can I help you?" the boobs asked him.

He might have drooled a little, as his gaze immediately darted to her cleavage. _Hello mamma… those couldn't be legit, could they? _He forced his eyes to meet her face and she didn't look the least bit offended by his lewd staredown. "No," he croaked and then cleared his throat, "I'm here to see D.. Mr. Hale."

"Do you have an appointment?" she frowned, checking her computer screen. Her subtle Omega pheromones hit Stiles's nose and he felt slightly lightheaded.

"Uhm, no, but I have a project I'm working on…"

"I'm sorry, you can't see him," she said with an apologetic smile.

"Is he in a meeting?"

"No, but he is very busy."

_Huh? _Stiles immediately disliked the busty protector. What was so important, that she couldn't even pick up her phone and ask him?

"It will only take a couple minutes," he tried, adding some of his own charm, as he leaned against her desk and cast her a toothy grin.

But the blondie remained unaffected. "I'm afraid, I can't let you in," she said firmly.

"But…."

"Give me your name and I'll see if I can squeeze you in sometime this week."

Stiles sighed in frustration. He took out his phone and his first instinct was to demonstratively call Derek and put the obnoxious secretary in her place, but he settled on texting him instead: _"Your guard dog doesn't let me in."_

He got a quick reply, _"?"_

_"Your secretary. I'm at your office."_

The door opened and Derek came out carrying some documents.

"Mr. Stilinski. Come in please," he told Stiles and shifted his attention to his secretary, "Angela, I need these to be sent by express post to Howard & Co and call them if there is a possibility to shift the meeting by half an hour, I might not make it."

"Yes, Mr. Hale," the boobs cooed and splashed the room with pheromones, which annoyed Stiles to no end.

"_Yes, Mr. Hale,_" he parodied her when they entered Derek's office. "Didn't know you are such a celebrity that mere mortals can't see you."

"She is just doing her job, I can't be disturbed all the time," Derek replied shrugging, and Stiles felt an unfathomable stab of jealousy that he took her side over his. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh yeah, I just…" Stiles suddenly felt self-conscious about bringing Derek lunch. "Here," he put the bag of sushi on Derek's desk. "I went to a sushi place for lunch, so I got you your favorites, you said you are gonna have a busy day."

Derek blinked… and then blinked again utterly bewildered.

Stiles felt even more stupid now. What was he thinking really? "I'm not giving you my kidney, I brought you lunch," he deadpanned, hoping to diffuse his own awkwardness with snark.

Derek still looked weird, so Stiles quickly changed the topic to combat the discomfiture. "I will be going home earlier today, still have to finish the paper for tomorrow."

"Finish or start?" Derek asked, narrowing his eyes knowingly.

"Finish, start, details."

"Is that the paper you told me about a week ago?"

Damn Derek and his memory!

Stiles grimaced. "Hey, I'll get it done." Derek opened his mouth to argue, but Stiles didn't let him, "No, shush! I brought you sushi so you don't get to tell me off now."

"I wasn't going to, but if your grades start slipping, we will both get in trouble," Derek replied, his face serious.

And yes, that was true, but what the hell, he didn't come here for a lecture! "Alright, I'm taking this back, you clearly don't understand how this works," Stiles said sulkily, reaching for the sushi.

Derek quickly snatched it away with a chuckle, "Go write your paper, brat."

The playful jab immediately improved Stiles' mood. He grinned cheekily at his husband and went to exit.

"And Stiles," Derek called before Stiles opened the door, "Thank you," he said with a genuine, warm smile.

Stiles gave him a mock salute and left the office in high spirits because that smile was totally worth it after all.

* * *

xxx

Stiles was working on his paper the whole evening, cursing himself for procrastinating till the last possible moment. Derek let him study and didn't say a word. The sushi must have really worked its magic because the Alpha went as far as to even bring him dinner to his room and then pick up the empty plate. And all that without a single snide remark. (Impossible, I know.)

When Stiles finally emerged from his room at half-past eleven, Derek only smirked at him and offered him a bottle of beer, which Stiles graciously accepted.

"All done?"

"Yeah. Nothing super impressive, but passable."

Derek only nodded in reply. Stiles kept waiting for a reaction, but the Alpha just focused blankly on the TV instead.

"What, no lecture on how I should do better and not put off schoolwork till the last moment?" he asked, only half joking.

"Why? You think you need one?"

"No, I'm good."

"Good."

_Alright. Who are you, and what did you do to Derek? _ Stiles almost said it out loud too, but he was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. He frowned and glanced at Derek, whose expression mirrored his own.

Derek went to answer the door, and it ended up being Liam. Stiles shot from his seat to see if the boy was hurt, but there were no new visible bruises.

"Liam, are you ok? Did something happen?"

The boy chewed his bottom lip, shifting from foot to foot. "You said to come any time…" he trailed off, studying his shoes.

That was not what Stiles meant of course, but watching the kid, it didn't seem like he came so late just to spite him. Stiles glanced at Derek and the Alpha gave him the 'oh well' kind of shrug.

"Sure, come in, I'll fix you something quick."

Liam ate with appetite but in silence. Stiles tried to make small talk but after two monosyllabic answers, he gave up and let the kid eat in peace.

"Looks like he really came just to eat," Stiles whispered to Derek.

"You seem surprised. Wasn't that the deal?"

"Yeah, but why would he come so late?"

Derek shrugged like he wasn't really all that surprised. "To gauge the reaction I suppose."

Stiles hoped they passed the test if that was the case. Liam came from the kitchen casting them both a quick grateful smile.

"Thanks, guys, was good. I'll be going now."

Derek grabbed the car keys and his jacket. "I'll give you a lift."

Liam waved his hand dismissively. "Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"Not up for a discussion, kid. It's the middle of the night."

"I appreciate the _concern_," Liam said, though his tone suggested otherwise, "But it wouldn't be the first nor the last time. I'm not a child, I know my way around."

"Good for you, but right now you are under my roof and therefore under my responsibility. I'm driving you and that's final," Derek replied firmly.

Liam folded his arms on the chest and cast them both an obstinate glare. Stiles assumed that it wasn't so much the drive that he minded, as the simple fact that he didn't want to tell them where he lived. Derek must have thought of the same.

"It's either that or you are staying here," he told the boy, ignoring the display of teenage defiance.

Liam deflated after that and dropped his gaze to the floor.

Derek waited for another minute and then took off his jacket. "Alright. Staying it is."

"Don't worry, the couch is quite comfy," Stiles said with an encouraging smile.

"No." Derek cut him off, "There is no way I'm letting this punk roam around the apartment unsupervised. He will stay in your room and you will stay with me," then he turned to Liam and pointed a finger at him, "Don't get any ideas. I will lock you in for the night and we will check everything before we let you out tomorrow."

"You don't have to, I won't take anything," Liam retorted, pursing his lips sulkily.

"Trust is not given, it's earned, and so far you have done absolutely nothing to earn mine," Derek replied coldly.

Liam blushed and didn't argue. Stiles wrapped his hand around the boy's shoulders and nudged him towards his room.

...

"So did you get in trouble because of me?" Liam asked as Stiles changed the bedsheets for him.

He raised his eyes to look at the boy and then followed his gaze. Liam was looking at Stiles's laptop, so he probably figured that the one he stole was Derek's. Stiles snorted nonchalantly, "I don't get in trouble."

"Uh-huh," Liam hummed, tilting his head.

"What?"

"I saw you both at the BRP headquarters. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots. You are in the Program."

Yet again Stiles marveled at just how perceptive the kid was. There was no point in denying it. "Fine, I did get in trouble."

Liam winced in sympathy. "I'm sorry." Given how scary Derek could be, the kid must have imagined something cruel and harsh.

"I'm fine. Derek's bark is worse than his bite," Stiles said, offering him a reassuring grin, but the boy didn't look convinced.

Stiles gave the kid one of his t-shirts to sleep in and then grabbed a fresh one for himself along with the boxer shorts and went to take a shower. After brushing his teeth for way longer than necessary and staring at the mirror like a blushy Omega before the first date, he finally made his way to Derek's bedroom.

The Alpha was already lying down. His bed was a standard king-sized one, with two mattresses, two pillows, and one big blanket.

"Uhm, we could put one mattress on the floor, and I'll grab the blanket from the living room…"

"Stop with the theatrics Stilinski, and get your ass in bed," Derek snapped with an exasperated eye roll. Stiles flushed but obeyed, feeling awkward as he lay down next to his husband.

Was he overthinking things? Was he not supposed to feel self-conscious about sharing a bed with Derek? After all, he wouldn't have been if it was Scott. But Derek was not Scott...

The Alpha turned off the night light and the darkness didn't help whatsoever with calming down Stiles's nerves. If anything it made him all the more aware of Derek's even breathing, his alluring masculine scent, and the fact that it would take next to no effort to reach out and… and do what exactly?

If Derek actually wanted anything he would do it himself, wouldn't he? He had no trouble taking the lead in literally every other aspect of their life. Did he even find Stiles attractive? Stiles always considered himself easy on the eyes, but Derek would still be out of his league. But then again, the Alpha never seemed interested in _anybody_, and he did look like he actually wanted to kiss Stiles on several occasions. Although, that might have been all a product of Stiles' imagination, since yet again - if Derek really wanted to, he would have done it.

Like when he had his hands all over Stiles' ass. Because Stiles didn't imagine that one. There was no way Derek wasn't conscious of what he was doing. He grew hard for fuck's sake. And yet, for some reason, he didn't take it any further and acted as if nothing happened afterwards. Why on Earth would he stop? Did he think Stiles wouldn't want to? Well, that's bullshit, Derek knew how attracted Stiles was to him. He kept pointing it out at every fucking opportunity. So why? Was he just toying with him?

All those conflicted thoughts running through his head effectively prevented Stiles from relaxing, not to mention sleeping. Given the pattern of Derek's breaths (that Stiles was vividly aware of), the Alpha wasn't asleep either. Talk about unresolved sexual tension...

"What is it, Stilinski?" Derek's voice broke the heavy silence.

"What do you mean?"

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Why aren't _you_ sleeping?" Stiles retorted evenly.

"I have an anxious Beta in my bed."

"I'm not…"

"I'm not gonna jump you, so you can relax."

_And why aren't you? What's so wrong with me? _Stiles thought bitterly, but out loud he said, "Sure."

Time passed and Stiles still couldn't fall asleep. Seriously what would Derek do, if he just took his hand? Or if he rolled closer and nuzzled his neck? Or got bold and straddled him? Would he push him away? Maybe he could pretend to do it in his sleep? But then there wouldn't be a follow-up.

The even deep breathing from the other side of the bed successfully silenced those thoughts. Unlike Stiles, Derek apparently had no trouble falling asleep next to him. Having the dilemma taken away from him, Stiles finally dozed off.

He didn't sleep well and woke up early, feeling tired and weary. Derek was asleep since it wasn't their running day and there was still at least an hour before they had to get up. Stiles watched the Alpha's face - so handsome and peaceful, without a trace of his usual arrogant scowl - and his chest tightened. He didn't want to admit it, but there was no fighting this feeling. The attraction was always there, cause the Alphahole was ridiculously hot. Stiles knew it. Derek knew it. But Stiles never thought his heart would be in danger because Derek was always such a dick… and yet. Stiles was inadvertently falling for him anyway.

_Fuck._

He quietly left the room, unable to deal with the strong longing feeling that left him fifty shades of frustrated. He went to unlock Liam since the kid might need to go to the toilet first thing in the morning. However, when Stiles opened the door, he saw that the boy wasn't sleeping either.

"Hey, you are up early."

"So are you," Liam noted tilting his head. "So how was the night with Derek?" he asked teasingly.

Stiles pulled a face and ignored the question. He went to check his desk and drawers for any potential missing items, just to keep his hands busy.

"Aww, that's sad," Liam chaffed.

"Shut up, we are not like that."

"Yes, you are."

Damn the perceptive kid! Seriously, was Stiles _that_ obvious? "And what makes you an expert?" he asked, folding his hands on the chest.

"I have eyes."

_Figures._

Stiles refused to carry on with that discussion and focused on going through his belongings demonstratively.

"I said I won't take anything," the boy muttered sullenly, his cheerful mood replaced with a gloomy one.

Stiles felt a pang of guilt for giving him a hard time. It's not like the kid even wanted to stay, Derek had pretty much forced him and if Stiles wanted Liam to trust him and open up, then perhaps he should lead by example.

"Sorry. I know you wouldn't. But Derek wouldn't let you go unless I checked," he said, shrugging apologetically. And he might have felt bad about blatantly shifting the blame to Derek if he didn't feel so frustrated after spending the night with him. Right now Stiles was ready to blame him for pretty much everything, from bad weather to global warming. "Come, let's go make breakfast."

Stiles wanted the kid to eat as much as possible, so he might have gone a bit overboard with the hefty amount of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and toasts towering on the table.

Derek certainly looked impressed, since their usual weekday breakfast consisted of coffee and maybe some cereals. "Wow," he said, plunging on one of the chairs with a towel hanging around his neck. "I don't think I have seen so much food here before."

Stiles scowled at the questionable compliment. "Not like anyone stops _you_ from cooking."

Derek raised an eyebrow, probably surprised by Stiles' grumpy tone, "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed."

"Also in the wrong room," Stiles grumbled into his plate.

"I smell a lot of sexual frustration," Liam noted casually, addressing no one in particular.

Stiles glared at the teen. Whatever happened to the scared trembling boy? "Aren't you late for school, or something?"

"Let me eat, Jesus, you had all night. Not my fault you pussied out."

Wow. Called out by a 13-year-old. Stiles almost choked on the eggs, blushing profusely.

Derek was unamused. He leaned over the table, fixing the boy with a stern glare. "This is your one and _only_ warning, kid."

His eyes didn't change color, the fangs remained very much human-size, and yet Liam sobered up immediately. "I'm sorry, Alpha," the boy apologized.

Stiles kept his eyes firmly on his plate. He wasn't even sure who he was pissed at the most at the moment. Liam for being an obnoxious know-it-all, himself for staring at the ceiling half of the night while pining after the dickhead next to him, or Derek for failing to do the same... or more... or anything.

* * *

_TBC_

_Well, we are finally getting to the Stiles & Liam & Derek dynamic that I was aiming for since the beginning. (took me longer than expected) How do you like it so far?_


	14. Bonding

_Author's note: I don't say it enough, but I highly appreciate all the feedback you guys give the story! Thank you and Happy Victory Day - to those of you who celebrate it._

_Fluff, silliness, and a bit of drama incoming._

* * *

In the following weeks, Liam became a regular visitor to their home. He was coming at least every second day, never calling in advance, never hinting when he might come again. To Stiles's relief, he stopped showing up with a new black-eye every visit, though his upper arms still occasionally bore marks of not-so-gentle grabbing.

The kid never talked about homelife or drugs or anything sensitive, and he shut down whenever Stiles or Derek broached the topic. Other than that, he became quite chatty and comfortable around them. Though he was definitely more guarded around Derek and watched his mouth because the Alpha never hesitated to bark a sharp reprimand if the teen was getting lippy.

Stiles kept inviting Isaac over in hopes that Liam would show up and Isaac, given his difficult background, would understand the kid better and tell them how to get through to him. But even after the two met, the only advice Isaac gave was to be patient, build trust, and give him time.

Derek was not big on patience. He wanted to involve the authorities and to trick Liam into meeting child protective services, but Stiles knew that it could backfire horribly. Liam would run away and they would never see him again. And for now, Stiles's arguments were winning over Derek's. Though it was probably only a matter of time until Derek's patience ran out.

For the most part, Liam provided a pleasant company. They played plenty of Fortnite together, and the kid was kicking Stiles' ass more often than not. He freely talked about school and subjects that interested him and those that gave him trouble, and even did his homework on occasion alongside Stiles, who now spent most of his evenings studying or working on projects.

Today was one of those days. Stiles even skipped work to finish one of his projects which was due tomorrow, but when he saw how sad the kid looked, he didn't have the heart to tell him he didn't have time for him.

"Hey Liam, come in," he greeted the boy cheerfully. "Hungry?"

Liam just shrugged, which was a common non-committal answer these days. Even though he stayed for a meal almost every time, he never gave the impression of a starved child. Stiles figured that the food might have just been an excuse to hang out with them. From what he understood Liam didn't have many friends, or at least not the kind one should be sticking around.

"Well, feel free to check the fridge, if there is anything to your fancy."

Another shrug.

"So what's up?"

"Sky."

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. "I think Derek is rubbing off on you with his grumpiness and unfunny jokes."

Liam pulled a face at that comparison. "Our social studies teacher is nuts. She wants us to bring some family heirloom or an_ antique_ and give a presentation about it," he complained, huffing.

'Family' was obviously a sore topic for any orphan, but Stiles knew better than to mention anything. "Just make something up."

"That's the plan, but I still need _something. _You got any antiques lying around?"

"Actually, there's a bunch of boxes in the basement with random shit from the previous owners. They used to live in my room and I think we could find something there old enough to pass for an important heirloom."

The basement was cold and moldy, so they dragged all those boxes up to the apartment, and Stiles had a flash of déjà-vu from his early days. Derek said he will be coming late today, so they had plenty of time to go through them undisturbed. Stiles put on one of his old playlists for the nostalgic atmosphere, as they dug into it.

It turned out that there indeed was a couple of random items that looked like they could be a family relic. They settled on a nice old clock, which dated somewhere to the second world war, crafting up a story of how Liam's great-grandpa brought it from Europe as spoils of war.

"Look!" Liam called taking out a picture from another box. "That's Derek! He is so small and still grumpy," he noted, chuckling.

Stiles took the old photo and couldn't help smiling. It was a Christmas family picture and Derek was around 10 years old there, sulking with his arms over his chest, looking cute as hell. There were his parents and sisters and a young Peter there too. They looked like a normal happy family.

Stiles glanced at Liam, and the boy's expression changed to a sorrowful one. Losing a family was something that Derek and Liam shared. The only thing Stiles knew of his parents, was that they died in a car crash 3 years ago. The boy almost cried as he said it and Stiles never brought the topic up again. And now watching the boy, it was obvious which direction his thoughts had taken.

Stiles grabbed a cringy looking pink longhaired wig from the box which they dismissed from the start as the "wtf box". He put the wig on and gave the teen a salacious look. That won him a reluctant half-smile. But Stiles was not stopping there. As the first tunes of Lady Marmalade played on his laptop, he scanned the box and picked the rest of his drag queen outfit. Singing along the _"Hey sista', go sista', soul sista', flow sista'"_ he squeezed himself into the flashy pink corset and wrapped a scarf around his hips in a semblance of a skirt.

Liam looked at him as if he completely lost his shit, while Stiles shook his hips to the beat chanting _"Gitchie, gitchie, ya-ya, da-da"_. The song was one of Lydia's favorites back in the day, and even though Stiles never really liked it, he knew the lyrics by heart.

He was set on making the boy smile, so he upped his game by grabbing a nearby chair and straddling it in what he hoped was a sexy burlesque imaginary lap dance, but was probably better described as 'an idiot humping a chair'. But who cared, Liam was giggling through his intense facepalm.

Stiles let his hands run over his corseted chest seductively as he sang the french catchphrase _"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" _which left the boy laughing his ass off, while Derek just shook his head in disbelief. Wait, did I say Derek?

Stiles almost fell off the chair as he saw the Alpha standing in the doorway, his expression best described as 'what the fuck did I just walk into'.

"Oh, hey Derek," Stiles called, fighting a blush. He quickly turned down the volume of the music and glanced around the room, which looked like it went through breaking and entering. "We .. uhm, found some stuff in the basement," he offered as an explanation for the sorry state of the living room.

"Uh-huh. _I see_."

Was the Alpha fighting a smile? Stiles almost forgot what he was wearing till Derek gave him the once-over, but Stiles refused to appear embarrassed about it.

"I think I'd make a cute Omega," he preened, wiggling his brows. "What do you think, Liam?"

"Very cute," the boy agreed, trying to contain his laughter.

"Adorkable," Derek deadpanned.

"See, he thinks I'm a cute gal," Stiles chirped at Liam conspiratorially.

Derek rolled his eyes, "Clean the mess, moron."

"Adorkable moron," Stiles countered with a chuckle, not at all offended.

"And about to be a very _sorry_ one," Derek parried, "Aren't you supposed to be working on some project?" he added and when the only answer he got was a sheepish grin, he huffed in annoyance, "I'm gonna hit the shower, and I want this gone by the time I'm out."

"Alright, I better be going," Liam said, quickly making his escape.

"Oh no, you don't. You are helping Stiles," Derek told him, frowning.

Liam waved his hand dismissively, "Sorry, need to be home by six. Bye."

"_Liam._"

_Uh-oh._ It was _that_ tone. Stiles got a physical reaction to it, even though for once it was not directed at him.

Liam stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Derek without a trace of earlier attitude.

"Did you just _lie _to me?"

Derek didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. The teen was a picture of a boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

"I'm sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, seeing Derek raise an eyebrow, "Uhm, I'm gonna help Stiles," he quickly scuttled over, passing Derek a bit too quickly.

"Good," Derek said sternly, though Stiles could see the smirk behind it.

"Wanted to bail on me, huh?" he teased him when Derek left to take his shower.

"Sorry," Liam muttered, looking genuinely embarrassed.

Stiles patted his shoulder reassuringly. He wouldn't really mind even if he did.

Despite the seemingly disastrous state of the living room, Stiles and Liam put everything back in the boxes within 15 minutes. Stiles saved the picture of Derek and his family though. He just didn't have the heart to put it back in the box. Instead, he went to look for more and was rewarded with another one. Though perhaps this one was less of a reward and more of "curiosity killed the cat" kind of pic.

Stiles' heart skipped a beat as he stared at an adult Derek embracing a beautiful chestnut-haired female Omega. The couple wasn't looking at the camera but at each other, smiling with such warmth and affection. Stiles has never seen the Alpha looking like that - happy, carefree, _in love_. That must have been _before_ \- before the fire, before the gas leak, before everything went to shit.

"Wow, she is pretty," Liam commented, looking over Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles couldn't help but agree, sighing unhappily. He could practically smell the Omega pheromones through the picture and if that's where the bar was set, then he really had no chance. And crap, was that an engagement ring on her finger?

"But you are quite ok, too," the boy said as if reading his mind.

"Gee, thanks," Stiles snorted at Liam's pathetic attempt to make him feel better.

"He is married to _you_, you know?"

"Yeah, that was not exactly consensual on our part."

"And yet both of you are fine with it."

"That literally couldn't be further from the truth!"

"The lady doth protest too much."

Oh great, a 13-year-old was quoting Shakespear to him. And as usual, the boy was on point. Failing to come up with a witty comeback, Stiles groused his usual, "Shut up. Go, do your homework, or something."

Taking it for a win that it was, the boy cast him a victorious smirk and with an overly cheerful "See ya" left Stiles to drag all those boxes back to the basement on his own. _Crap, dismissed the kid a bit too soon._

When Stiles crawled back to the apartment he was met with an interesting sight of Derek in a dark grey suit fixing a matching dark grey striped tie, while Ruby was brushing against his leg trying to leave as much fur on him as possible.

"Whoa! " Stiles exclaimed in appreciation, as he took the cat in his arms. Derek looked hot as hell, even with his hair still wet from the shower. "Looking sharp, Mr. Bond."

Derek rolled his eyes, "I run a business, I attend business dinners, this shouldn't be a surprise."

"And yet I have never seen you all dressed up."

"That's because I avoid it when possible and have a couple spare suits at work. But they're in dry cleaning now."

Well, that explained why Derek came home, instead of going directly to the dinner as planned. "What, your secretary fucked up?" Stiles couldn't help the feeling of gleeful satisfaction at having Derek displeased with his perfect Omega assistant.

The Alpha cast him an annoyed look. "Yes."

"Little miss perfect made a mistake," Stiles gloated, "Is she getting punished?"

"Thoroughly."

That gave Stiles a pause. The dark gaze Derek was giving him couldn't be described as anything but sexual.

"Are you fucking your secretary?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"Neither did you."

Stiles huffed, dropping the topic, lest he proved Derek right about just how jealous he was. No, he didn't think that Derek was fucking his secretary. At least he hoped that he didn't. That would be kinda inappropriate, right? Surely Derek got himself a hot Omega assistant just as eye-candy. Somebody who would look good bringing coffee to his meetings and charm the clients. Nothing more.

Persuading himself that the issue was not worth dwelling on, he finally went to work on his project. But just as he opened the laptop, he heard an angry snarl from the bathroom.

"STILINSKI! Where the hell is my hair gel again?"

_Oops_. It was not the first time Stiles forgot to return it after using it since his own ran out. "Uhm, yeah... I might have borrowed it. _'Temporarily misappropriated'_."

"If I don't have it in my hands in the next ten seconds, I'm going to temporarily misappropriate my hand against your ass," the Alpha growled menacingly, "Ten."

"You know it's used in reference to stealing, right?"

"Nine, eight, seven…"

Stiles bolted not wasting another second since Derek didn't look like he was joking. He placed an almost empty gel can in Derek's hand just as the Alpha finished saying zero.

"Made it."

"You think?"

_Uh-oh. _Derek had the sadist face on.

"Ow Derek, Ow, stop, ow, I did! Come on! Ow, Ok, ok, I won't be borrOWing your stuff anymOre!"

Derek let go of his arm, which he used to manhandle him during this completely childish, not to mention entirely unnecessary and unfair reprimand. Stiles pouted, rubbing his stinging butt, but Derek didn't look the least bit sympathetic. _Dick!_

"Behave, kid," Derek enjoined, his face and tone full on condescending, "I'll be late tonight. I hope you have a marvelous evening full of diligent studying."

Stiles gave him the stink eye. "I hope you choke on a lobster."

* * *

xxx

Stiles sat on the sofa in the living room pretending to study. The fact that he had been reading the same page for the last 30 minutes suggested that he should probably give up and go to bed. But instead, he sipped on his beer, his mind wandering to the two images he found in the box today.

There were only two reasons why Derek would so negligently leave the precious memories buried in the basement. Either he wasn't fond of them, or they were still too painful to look at. Stiles had no doubt it was the latter. He knew that Derek didn't break up with his girlfriend because they didn't fit together or due to some personal reasons. No, he wanted to protect her knowing he was a target and she could get hurt again.

Did he still have feelings for her? Sure, it's been already two years, but they were _engaged_. Maybe he thought that once he solved the murder of his family, proved the involvement of his uncle, and put all the responsible people in jail (or in grave), they would get back together and live happily ever after?

Where would that leave Stiles? Well, that was an easy one. It's been almost two months since they got in the Program, and while it was nowhere near a 'smooth ride', they still both believed that it will be over in 4 months. After that, Stiles will be out of his life.

If only this thought wasn't so fucking painful...

"Hey."

Stiles was so deep in his thoughts he didn't realize that Derek came back and caught him zoned out staring blankly at the wall. He cast him a tired smile, stretching his arms with a yawn. "Hey yourself."

"Finished the project?"

"Yeah, and then spent the rest of the evening studying this shit," Stiles pointed at the book in his lap. "What about you?"

"I choked on a lobster."

Stiles let out a chuckle. Derek grabbed a beer for himself and flumped next to Stiles on the sofa. There was plenty of space and yet the Alpha sat close enough that their knees and arms were touching. Stiles could smell a soft hint of alcohol in his breath.

"Too bad you survived," he joked.

"Barely. Better luck next time."

They sat side by side slumped on the sofa like boneless piles of flesh sipping on their beers. Stiles enjoyed the comfortable silence. Noone felt the need to talk and it wasn't awkward. And even their bodies subtly touching wasn't something odd, it felt natural, even though it wasn't all that common.

"We ain't running tomorrow."

"Oh, thank fucking God." Stiles raised his clasped hands to the ceiling in silent prayer. They both needed that extra bit of sleep.

"How about thanking your Alpha?"

"Thank fucking God my Alpha got drunk tonight."

"I'm not drunk. We only had champagne."

"Whatever."

Another silence fell between them. Stiles wondered how much of Derek's decision to forfeit his precious jogging came from his own fatigue and how much it was out of care and consideration for Stiles during his exam period. It was probably the latter since Derek was a fucking superman… or at least he acted as one most of the time.

Stiles found himself so comfy that he started slowly drifting off to sleep. He let out a loud yawn and finally got up. "I'm gonna head to bed."

"Stiles?"

Stiles turned around to face his husband and despite being dead tired his heart jumped a little at the look Derek was giving him.

"I'm not sleeping with my secretary."

Stiles fought his face to remain impassive and failed as his lips twitched into a pleased smile. "Good night, Derek."

It was not even the fact that Derek was not sleeping around, it was the fact that he wanted Stiles _to know_ that he wasn't, that made Stiles feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

* * *

xxx

When Stiles saw Liam the following day, he knew that shit was gonna hit the fan. Looking at the kid's battered face, he felt torn between being enraged and concerned. Liam's left eye was completely swollen to the point, he could barely see it, and the baseball cap did little to hide it. That was definitely more than one well-placed punch, that was a proper beat-down.

With the corner of his eye, he saw Derek tense and prayed that the Alpha would remain calm. They were in the middle of eating dinner, so Stiles tried to defuse the sudden tension in the air by offering the kid to join them. When Liam nodded, he quickly grabbed the teen by the shoulder and led him to the kitchen, before Derek lost his shit and blurted something insensitive. He will try to address the issue later when they were all calmer about it.

Despite Stiles' warning looks, Derek refused to stay silent. He stomped out of the room and then dropped the medkit on the table with a loud thud. When both Liam and Stiles just continued eating, refusing to make eye contact with an angry Alpha, Derek crossed his arms on the chest and tapped his foot on the floor.

"Well?" he demanded, breaking the silence. "How long are we gonna pretend that this shit is ok?"

"Derek…"

"Don't Derek me! Just look at him!" he barked, taking off Liam's cap to further expose his injury. "This looks normal to you?!"

"It's not. But Liam will tell us when he is comfortable to do so," Stiles replied, not really sure he believed in what he was saying anymore. He just knew that if Derek flew off the handle it would likely make things even worse.

"Fuck that! I'm done pretending everything is peachy!" Derek snapped and then turned to Liam, "So what happened this time?"

Liam just kept staring at his plate.

"I asked you a question," Derek's tone grew sterner.

Stiles gave him a placating glance but the Alpha ignored it.

"_Liam,_" he pressed.

"It's nothing."

"It's not _nothing_, you keep showing up hurt! So what is it? Who is doing this to you?"

"Do I have to go through an interrogation to eat?"

"No," Stiles said.

"Yes," Derek said at the same time.

"_No_," Stiles repeated, giving him a pointed look.

"_Yes!_" Derek was not backing off.

"Jesus, I'll just go then!" Liam got up with an attitude and stalked angrily to the door.

"Not another step!" Derek bellowed and got up as well.

Liam ignored the command and continued to the door. Derek's reaction was fast. In two quick strides, he was already grabbing the teen by the elbow, spinning him around and leaning down glaring daggers in his face.

"I have had it with your lies and attitude! You are going to tell me _everything_ or so help me…" he growled, his eyes flashing dark red.

Liam's eyes widened in fear. He looked over Derek's shoulder shouting, "Look out!" and as Derek turned, he kneed him right in the balls, putting enough force behind his blow to completely incapacitate the angry Alpha. The boy fled the apartment as Derek toppled over with a painful groan.

"Oh my God, Derek! Are you ok?!" Stiles ran over to him, wincing in sympathy. Alpha or not, getting kicked in the balls hurt like a motherfucker. His pride was probably smarting even more since he had just been bested by a 13-year-old Beta. Though Stiles had enough sense of self-preservation not to point that out.

Once Derek was able to speak again, the first thing he said was, "I'm sorry, Stiles."

Stiles only understood what he meant when the whole week had passed and they hadn't seen Liam even once.

* * *

xxx

As much as Stiles wanted to give Derek shit for driving the kid away, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. And not just because the Alpha regretted that he lost his temper and apologized for it, but because Stiles expected it all along and did nothing to prevent it, hence feeling partially responsible for this outcome.

He kept replaying their time together and the thing he regretted the most was never establishing a communication channel between them. He left it entirely up to Liam to show up unannounced whenever he pleased, giving the boy card blanche on their interactions. And now he had no way to contact him. He knew nothing about the kid which would help him reach out to him in a situation like this. He didn't know his last name, his address, phone number, school - nothing.

And what was the likelihood that there would never be a conflict between them? No, this scene was inevitable to happen. Perhaps, not to this degree, but there was bound to be an argument at some point. It was human nature, after all. The problem was, that in their case one argument resulted in a complete shut-off. They simply didn't know whether they would ever see the kid again, and there was nothing they could do about it now.

However, they must have done something right, because one evening when they were coming back from work (together for once) they found Liam waiting by the door. The boy was sitting on the floor hugging his knees with a backpack by his side and was a picture of pure misery. As soon as he saw them, he jumped to his feet, casting them a sheepish glance.

"Liam?"

"Hey guys," he mumbled, chewing on his bottom lip guiltily. "Uhm… I need a place to stay for a couple days. I know I'm probably the last person you wanna see after what happened…" the boy trailed off, casting Derek an uncertain look.

Stiles wanted to quickly reassure the kid that everything was fine, except it wasn't his reassurance that Liam was looking for right now.

"I'm sorry, Alpha, I … I understand if you decide to beat me up, I know I deserve it. I just have nowhere else to go." The boy's voice cracked on the last words, his lower lip trembling in a sign of an impending meltdown.

"Come here," Derek said softly. Liam didn't dare to raise his eyes, with a hunched shoulders he approached the Alpha like a prisoner on a death row.

Unlike Liam, Stiles had no doubt that Derek would never use his fists against a kid Beta, so he wasn't at all surprised when Derek wrapped his arms around the trembling kid, murmuring soft reassurances as the boy cried.

"It's ok, kiddo. I got you. I know I triggered a fight or flight response from you so that one is on me. You can stay for however long you need. I promise not to pressure you again. Everything's gonna be ok."

Stiles refused to be left out, so he joined in a group hug sandwiching Liam between himself and Derek. They stayed like this for a couple of long minutes.

Once the boy calmed down a bit, he started complaining for them to stop squeezing him, because 'he was not a plushie'. He even grew as bold as to suggest that if they wanted to hug each other they didn't need him as an excuse! Which earned him a swift punishment in the form of an organized tickling as Derek held him down while Stiles reduced the proud teen into a laugh-crying mess.

When Derek told Stiles to settle the boy in his room and that he will be staying with him again, Stiles didn't find anything odd about that directive, because it was the same arrangement as the last time. It wasn't till later that evening when Liam called it a night, that Stiles realized that Derek didn't lock the door to his room. Liam never took anything again and neither Stiles nor Derek had any reason to believe he would ever break that trust. Which meant that there was no reason why Liam had to take Stiles' room… other than Derek using it as an excuse to get Stiles in his bed.

Dare he hope…?

_Fuck Yeah!_

* * *

_TBC_

_Are you as excited for the next chapter as I am?_


	15. Moron

_Author's note: Ok guys, smut incoming. And when I say smut, I mean graphic self-indulgent porn-filled chapter. So if it's not your thing, skip it... oh who am I kidding, you've all been waiting for this. (but just in case you weren't, consider yourself warned)_

* * *

Whatever Stiles thought was gonna happen that night, he was in for a disappointment, when he came to bed (after the most diligent shower ever) and found his husband already asleep. He contemplated waking Derek up "by mistake", but then decided against it since grumpy sleepy Derek was not likely to be forthcoming towards Stiles' _ideas_ for the night.

When the next night ended in the same fashion, Stiles realized that perhaps he read Derek wrong and there was no ulterior motive for him to force Stiles to give up his room to Liam. Maybe he did it out of consideration for the kid. And Stiles knew he should respect that, not feel angry, frustrated, and rejected!

If only that was so easy…

At least, given the approaching Forensic Molecular Biology exam, which was the biggest beast this semester, Stiles had an excuse to keep his nose planted in books most of the day and avoid letting his foul mood affect his relationship with Derek or Liam. Though both picked up on his grumpiness anyway and Liam even made the mistake of pointing it out. But before Stiles had the chance to snap something rude, Derek told the boy to leave Stiles alone because he had a hard exam coming.

_How fucking considerate of him._

Stiles knew that he had no one to blame but himself for his unfulfilled expectations. But damn if Derek wasn't sending him mixed signals. One moment he looked like he was ready to pin him into the mattress and have his way with him and then the night came and all Stiles was met with was cold detachment. And that was just the worst!

Stiles cursed under his breath, realizing his mind wandered off again. He was sleepy and tired, but he needed to finish reviewing this shit for tomorrow's exam before he allowed himself a couple hours of restless sleep. Liam said he will be "off their hands" tomorrow, which meant that things will go back to normal, Stiles will get back his room and he won't have to watch Derek's sleeping face night after night. It's been only 4 days and yet they filled Stiles with so much stress and frustration, he wanted to scream. Alright, some of it was the usual stress during the exam period, but Derek was still the main cause.

"Stiles?" he heard Derek's voice from the doorway. "It's half past two." The Alpha sounded sleepy if anything, but there was also a hint of concern in his voice.

Stiles kept his eyes firmly on his lecture notes. "I know."

"You should get some sleep." For once it didn't feel like an order, but a mild directive.

"I'm not done," Stiles argued, "And you said it yourself, I can't allow my grades to slip under your watch."

"You can't be sleep deprived under my watch either."

_Too late for that. _

"I'll be fine, I always study better at night." And that was the truth, but mostly he simply didn't want to be near Derek, if it meant being confronted with his friendzoned (or Awarded-Beta-zoned, or whatever this was) status.

"Then come to bed and lie down. You can keep the night light and study there."

"You'll be distracting me."

"I won't say a word, I promise. Come," Derek grabbed Stiles's books, "I won't snore either," he added, casting him one of his charming grins. If only Stiles' heart didn't beat so hard from seeing it...

As promised, Derek didn't say a word, dozing off as soon as Stiles got in bed, and as expected, it effectively ruined the night for Stiles, making him feel unwanted and lonely. He kept dreaming how one night the Alpha would just grab him in his sleep and he would wake up in Derek's embrace. But Derek never as much as even stirred in his direction, and today was no different.

Stiles got up early, feeling like a zombie inside out and left the apartment before breakfast to avoid facing anyone in this state. He used a couple of spare hours to focus his mind on molecular biology and aced his exam like a boss. And while normally he would be ecstatic to get such an overwhelmingly positive result on such a hard subject, today it did nothing to improve his mood.

The apartment was empty when Stiles came back. His room was thoroughly tidied, with the used bedsheets carefully folded on the side of the bed. He felt a pang of guilt for never even saying goodbye to the kid and vanishing before breakfast. Derek and Liam probably had one together while talking about how short-tempered and stressed out Stiles was lately. And for the lippy know-it-all brat that Liam was, he probably even suggested that it was Derek's fault and Derek probably barked at him to mind his cheek or something of the sort.

Stiles chuckled imagining the likely scene and shook his head. Derek was way firmer with Liam than he was with Stiles lately. Even though Stiles was quite snappy, he didn't issue a single demerit, giving him space and leaving him alone. And if he proceeded to fuck his brains out during the night, Stiles would be quite on board with this newfound leeway. But since that was not the case, he only felt oddly cheated.

* * *

xxx

Derek came home early that day and when he saw Stiles brooding with his nose buried in yet another book, he halted and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with two bottles of beer.

"How did the exam go?" he asked with fake nonchalance.

Stiles contemplated calling him out on his act but decided it would be easier to just go with it. "Fine."

"What did you get?"

"An A." He wasn't looking at Derek, keeping his focus on the textbook, but he could practically feel Derek's confusion.

"That's great, congratulations," the Alpha said with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. "Wanna beer to celebrate?"

"No," Stiles gave another monosyllabic reply, hoping Derek would leave him alone, as he did for the past couple of days. "I'm studying."

"Ok, well, take a small break," Derek suggested, his tone still friendly.

"I don't want to," Stiles said, and the hint of attitude got through, despite his efforts to reign it in.

With the corner of his eye, he saw the Alpha deflate unhappily. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"_Stiles._"

That tone forced him to finally look at his husband. "What?!"

"Did something happen?"

Derek wasn't one to put up with attitude, and if Stiles wasn't so angry he would be surprised that Derek wasn't already issuing demerits and growling threats.

"No."

"Did I do something?"

_It's more about what you didn't do while you had the chance._

"No."

"I'm not a mindreader, Stiles."

"Well, no shit," Stiles muttered sarcastically.

There was only so much Derek could take. Stiles immediately spotted the difference. The Alpha got pissed.

"Either tell me what's going on or watch your fucking mouth!" he growled, glaring down at him.

But Stiles was too agitated to back off now. "And what if I don't want to?!"

"You are pushing me." It wasn't his usual 'shape up, or else' kind of threat, but rather a statement, and Derek looked genuinely surprised as he said it.

"And what if I am?"

"Why?" Derek seemed confused.

Stiles looked away, unwilling to face him. Derek took his chin and forced him to look up.

"Why Stiles?"

"I don't know," he hissed through gritted teeth, feeling his self-control slowly slipping away.

"You are lying."

"Then I don't want to talk about it!" Stiles shook his hand off angrily and took a step back from the Alpha, putting the distance between them again.

"Why?" Derek didn't give up, "Why do you want me to discipline you?"

"Because!"

"Because what?!"

"Because it's the only time you touch me!"

As soon as he said it, he knew he said too much. He had no doubt that he will regret revealing his feelings later, but once he started there was no stopping him.

"Because the right to discipline me is the only fucking claim you always so fervently stake over me! Because it's the only time you drop your Alphahole facade and act like a fucking human being that actually cares about me!"

The second of shocked silence weighed heavily between them as Derek's gaze darkened. "Moron," he breathed, shaking his head as he made towards Stiles with determination set on his face. Stiles's breath caught in his throat. He took an instinctive step back expecting a painful reprimand, but instead, Derek cradled his face in both hands and pressed his lips against Stiles's.

To say Stiles was caught off guard would be an understatement. Stiles froze, his brain giving errors, unable to process what was happening. Derek was kissing him? OMG, Derek was _kissing_ him! Softly and tenderly, almost shyly tasting his lips, while Stiles forgot how to breathe, much less reciprocate.

Derek pulled away and Stiles stared at him dumbfounded, his heart ready to jump out of his chest.

_I swear if he smirks down at me now, I'm going to punch him!_

But Derek didn't smirk, he looked at Stiles' flushed face, then muttered "Oh, fuck it," and attacked his mouth, this time invading it with his tongue without restraint, while his hands lifted Stiles by the hips and pressed him firmly against the wall. Stiles wrapped his legs around the Alpha, passionately returning the kiss and moaning as Derek squeezed his ass. His brain finally caught up with his body, realizing that this was indeed happening, but his thinking ability was quickly overclouded by an endorphin rush.

His hands traveled all over Derek, pulling his hair and scratching his back, as he gasped for air in between the vigorous kissing. But soon Derek's tongue in his throat just wasn't enough anymore. Derek's lips left his mouth just long enough to bite on his earlobe and Stiles jerked with need, digging his fingernails into Derek's shoulders.

At this point, Stiles was eager to move things into a more _horizontal_ position and as if reading his mind, Derek carried him to his room, all the while nibbling and sucking on his neck as if he couldn't get enough of him. He pretty much threw Stiles on his bed and paused, eyeing him like a delicious meal he was about to devour.

"See something you like?"

Derek's eye flashed dark red, not with threat but with desire. His lips curled into a smirk and he crawled onto the bed right on top of Stiles, grabbing both of Stiles' hands and pinning them above his head with one hand, while the other snaked under Stiles's shirt to pinch his nipple painfully.

Stiles winced, but the pain immediately turned to pleasure as Derek's lips caressed the offended spot and then proceeded to cover his torso with soft kisses. He struggled to get his hands free, but the Alpha only tightened his grip and continued to explore Stiles' body with his mouth. Failing to satisfy his need to touch Derek back, he let out a groan of frustration, which was quickly silenced with another kiss, while Derek's hand slipped under the waistband of his slacks and squeezed his cock through the fabric of his boxers.

_Oh yes, please!_

Stiles thrust his hips to meet his hand and was rewarded with a couple of expert strokes which left him rock hard and needy.

"Derek…" he breathed, trying to get control of his hands.

"Hmm?"

"I want to touch you."

"I know."

And that was it._ 'I know'._ Derek cast him a smug smirk but didn't let go, as he kept dominating him with his touch, reducing Stiles to the writhing mess under him. It was as frustrating as it was incredibly hot, and Stiles felt torn between hating Derek for being a dick even in bed and loving every bit of it because his cock was apparently on board.

After what seemed like infinite teasing torture, Derek finally let go of his wrists and positioned himself lower towards his hips. As soon as he caught Stiles' gaze, he locked his eyes with him, while his hands grabbed on the edges of Stiles' slacks and boxers, pulling them down in one slow deliberate movement.

Stiles watched his cock being freed from its confinement and he let out an involuntary moan when he saw Derek lick his lips suggestively before swallowing him whole in his mouth.

"Oh, God!"

"Hmm," Derek hummed, the vibrations further increasing the pleasure.

Stiles dug his hands into the bedsheets to keep himself from coming too soon. He wanted this thing to last as long as possible because Derek's lips around his cock was easily the sexiest thing that has happened to him since… since ever.

"Fuck, slow down," he jerked his hips trying to lift himself on his elbows.

Derek raised his head, wiping the bit of the drool off his lower lip with his thumb. "What is it?"

"I'm gonna come."

"Not yet."

With that he dragged Stiles's trousers and underwear the rest of the way and then took off his t-shirt, leaving him naked, except for the spousal necklace. Instead of following suit, Derek claimed his mouth again, letting his hands roam around his naked body. And as much as Stiles liked the attention he found himself pushing against Derek's chest fairly soon.

"Too much clothes, Derek," he pointed at the obvious.

The Alpha's lips curled in a smirk, as he raised his arms in an invitation for Stiles to undress him. Happy to finally get an opportunity to feel all of those perfectly toned muscles rippling under his shirt, Stiles peeled the garment away brushing his fingers over Dereck's impressive six-pack. He probably ought to have felt self-conscious, but he long since gave up comparing himself to Alphas. Besides, Derek seemed to be just as appreciative of his body, so Stiles only tsked in admiration and reached to unbuckle his belt.

Derek's erect cock was as stunning as the rest of the Alpha. Stiles had an immediate urge to taste him, but before he could follow through with this agenda, he was flipped face down on the mattress, his hands once again pinned over his head as Derek straddled him, his thick member rubbing against Stiles' asscheeks.

"Whoa, hold on, tiger," Stiles croaked, tensing. As much as the idea of being pinned down and taken without mercy was turning him on, he had no doubt that with Derek's generous size, it would be too damn painful to be even remotely enjoyable.

"I promise I can't get nor transmit STDs," Derek said, misinterpreting Stiles' hesitation.

"What?" Stiles asked, confused.

"It's the Alpha genes. I told you, I don't get sick."

"Oh… No, that's not it. It's just… it's been a while so… take it slow?"

"I'm not sure I will be able to do that."

Stiles turned around frowning. "What? Why?"

"Cause I've been dying to get in that ass of yours for too fucking long."

That declaration felt like a balm on Stiles's bruised ego. But at the same time... _What the fuck took you so long then?_

"And you call _me_ a moron?!" he groused and was instantly rewarded with a sharp slap on his bottom.

"Brat! Let's see if a proper buttfuck cures some of that attitude."

And even though Derek posed it as a threat, all Stiles felt was a slight shiver of anticipation, while his whole body screamed '_Yes, please'_. He had fantasized about this moment for so long and now it was finally happening!

Derek poured a generous portion of lube massaging his entrance before slipping in the first digit of his finger, eliciting an appreciative mewl out of Stiles.

"So tight," he noted breathily.

"I told you, it's been a while."

Stiles felt the weight of Derek's body as he leaned over, his hot breath tickling Stiles' neck. "Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna make it feel good," he purred against his ear.

_Oh my fucking God… did he just call me 'baby'? _THAT should NOT have felt as amazing as it did. But like a spell, it turned Stiles into a ragdoll as all the tension left his body. Derek was not going to hurt him. And that was not really a revelation, the Alpha proved it time and time again. The first couple of days might have been rough but Stiles long since stopped fearing the Alphahole, despite all the threats and growls and generally dickish nature, which never really went away.

Derek took his time opening Stiles up with his fingers, and if it weren't for an occasional pinch on the nipple and a too hard squeeze of his asscheek, Stiles would have come all over himself just from the stimulation alone.

He tried to keep his vocal feedback at bay, unwilling to let on just what Derek's touch was doing to him on both physical and mental levels. Though he had a feeling Derek was well aware of it anyway.

Despite thorough preparation, Stiles was still not ready for the feeling when Derek pressed the tip of his cock against his entrance. It was too much, too full, too intense and it made him forget all about keeping quiet.

Derek stilled, letting Stiles' body adjust to the intrusion, then slowly pushed forward prompting a painful throaty groan out of him.

"If only you knew how much I enjoy hearing you whimper with my cock inside you."

"That's because you're a fucking sadist," Stiles croaked through his discomfort. He kinda felt like a virgin, that Derek once accused him of being.

Derek let out a dark chuckle but didn't push any faster, slowly conquering his way through Stiles' defenses, as he nibbled on his ear. "Only with you."

And for whatever reason, that affirmation sent a shiver of joy through Stiles' body, silencing all the potential smartmouth comebacks he had on the tip of his tongue.

"All in, baby. How does it feel?"

"Intense," Stiles replied honestly, though already the stretch was getting more comfortable and as Derek reached out to stroke his cock, the sensations quickly turned into pleasure. "I'm fine, go on."

The Alpha started out slow, though Stiles could tell it was through sheer willpower on Derek's part. He knew from experience how hard it sometimes was to fight the urge to plunge in and bang the receiving party into the mattress. And as much as Stiles appreciated Derek's consideration, he _wanted_ to be banged into the mattress, so quite soon he started humping back to signal that he was ready to take this to another level.

Derek placed both hands on Stiles's hips to still his efforts and adjusted his angle, nailing Stiles' prostate and getting an enthusiastic "Fuck yes!". That was all it took for him to start fucking Stiles in earnest, each thrust so incredibly stimulating, Stiles completely gave up on keeping silent.

"Yes! Fuck! Right there!" he gushed ardently.

Derek wasn't vocal with his pleasure, but the heavy breathing and the restrained grunts spoke for themselves. Stiles mostly kept his eyes closed, focusing on all the incredible sensations, but he had no doubt that if he bothered to turn around to glance at the Alpha, he would see that hungry predatory look with fierce dark red eyes.

When Derek's fingers wrapped around his cock again, providing additional stimulation, Stiles lost all the remnants of self-restraint. "Oh God, Yes! Fucking marry me!"

"I did," Derek deadpanned and if it wasn't for the imminent orgasm, Stiles would have probably laughed. But he already reached the point of no return, trying to delay the last moments before his body erupted with overwhelming pleasure.

He focused on riding the feeling rather than controlling his reactions to it so he wasn't sure whether he said something, called Derek's name or just moaned. His sphincter contractions mirrored his twitching cock, which brought Derek over the edge and he felt the spurt of warm cum filling his ass. Through the fog of his consciousness, he heard Derek's guttural grunt, which was like music to his ears, inducing a content happy feeling.

He felt the Alpha's weight on top of him as they both collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. As the afterglow slowly faded, he registered that Derek pulled out and landed a couple of soft kisses on his shoulder. He was aware of the sticky feeling under him and in between his asscheeks, but his eyelids were shutting down on their own, the stress and lack of sleep finally catching up with him and before he knew it, he was out.

* * *

xxx

Stiles woke up to the sound of fingers running on the keyboard and the lingering smell of sex mixed with Derek's signature 'elevator' scent filled his nostrils. He felt achy in all the right places and couldn't help smiling at the memory of what caused it. Stiles stretched his arms with a loud yawn and opened his eyes to see the Alpha lying next to him with a notebook on his lap, working.

"Morning," Derek remarked with a tinge of sarcasm while keeping his eyes on the screen of his laptop.

"What time is it?"

"Half past eight. You were out for 4 hours. Which begs the question, when was the last time you _had_ a proper night's sleep?" he finally glanced at Stiles and raised an eyebrow which Stiles immediately recognized as his 'you're in for a lecture' face.

"I'm fine, it's always this way during exams," Stiles groused, rolling on his back.

"If you can't keep a reasonable sleeping schedule, I'll do it for you."

Stiles frowned, feeling admonished. "What, you gonna give me bedtime now?"

"And enforce it too, if you keep this up," the Alpha confirmed sternly.

Stiles crossed his arms on the chest fighting the feeling of hurt. It looked like they were back to the Responsible Alpha/Awarded Beta thing, where Derek was a detached dick barking orders. That was not what Stiles expected this to be like after the incredible sex that they had. The dried cum was scratching his privates in several places and he was eager to get in a shower and wash away the tokens of what he now realized was a one-time thing.

His chest squeezed painfully and he tried to persuade himself that he was fine. He turned around to get up and get the hell out of there, but before he could do that Derek's arms wrapped around him effectively halting his escape.

The Alpha pulled him closer, spooning him from behind. "Aww, look at my baby sulking over bedtime," he cooed teasingly in his ear.

And just like that Stiles melted in his embrace. Derek was definitely more sarcastic with his use of endearment than he was during sex, but it was clear that he didn't plan to ignore their intimacy and that this was not a one-time thing after all.

"Fuck you," Stiles grumbled with mock irritation even though he kinda wanted to giggle with joy instead.

"I'd rather fuck _you_," the Alphahole parried, thrusting his hardening cock between Stiles's asscheeks suggestively.

"Just give me 5 minutes to take a quick shower and we can go for round two," Stiles turned around to grin back at him.

"No," Derek said flatly and when Stiles frowned in confusion he got off the bed and scooped him up, throwing Stiles over his shoulder like a caveman. "I'm going with you."

It was kind of embarrassing to be held this way with his naked ass in the air, but Stiles' excitement overshadowed his need to protest. "Fuck yeah, shower sex!" he effused, raising his fist in the air like a dork.

Derek's dark chuckle as he carried him to the bathroom felt already like foreplay.

* * *

xxx

Later that evening, as things calmed down from all the sexcapades back to the routine, Stiles and Derek sat side by side in companionable silence in the living room. The difference from the other evenings was the way Stiles was leaning against his Alpha, whose arm was resting on his shoulder in a one-armed hug. Each focused on their own work, Derek read something on his laptop, and Stiles was studying for the next exam, but the casual intimacy of their intertwined bodies filled Stiles with a calm happy feeling. It felt surreal after all the tension of previous days (what days, _weeks!_) and Stiles couldn't help pondering what took them so long.

"I wonder…" he broke the silence and waited for Derek to finish reading the paragraph.

"Hm?"

"You never locked Liam's door, so why did he have to sleep in my room?"

"Why do you think?"

"Honestly? I thought you wanted to get me in your bed again... But then you did _nothing_…" Stiles heard the accusatory undertone in his voice, which made him sound butthurt, but it was kinda expected after all those nights spent feeling rejected.

Derek just shrugged in response. "You were so stressed with your exams," he offered, though it was obvious he already figured that this was not the case. "I thought you just needed some space." He shook his head chuckling as if remembering some private joke.

"What?"

"I owe that little shit 20 bucks."

Stiles knew exactly which _little shit _he meant. "Why?"

"Liam betted me that you will continue being the prickly drama queen even after your exam."

"I was nothing of the sort!" Stiles protested indignantly. Surely he wasn't_ that _bad! He didn't even talk to them much! Though in retrospect it was so out of character for Stiles, that in a sense it was pretty much a definition of acting out. Besides, he already got used to the kid seeing right through him and calling out all the shit that was conveniently left unsaid.

Derek snorted in amusement and pulled Stiles into his lap wrapping his hands around him and burying his face into Stiles' neck. "He also said it's my fault cause I'm _dense_."

"Ok, I can't argue with that," Stiles snickered.

Derek cupped his cheek and kissed him, effectively silencing all those bubbling giggles. After getting his fill of Stiles's mouth, he pulled away and waited for Stiles to open his eyes. "But just so there is no confusion. Next time, you start pushing me, you will get exactly what you were asking for," he warned, giving Stiles a stern look.

But Stiles was in a teasing mood. "Your attention?"

"My hand to your butt, repeatedly and painfully."

"Ooh, kinky."

"I'm serious."

"So am I," Stiles countered cheekily, thrusting his hardening cock at Derek.

The Alpha just shook his head with mock exasperation, "There is something seriously wrong with you."

Stiles grinned. "But you like me anyway." He surprised himself that he actually said it out loud, so he quickly looked away, flushing.

Derek rested his chin on Stiles's shoulder with a quiet content sigh. "I do."

* * *

_TBC_

_*Dances happily around the room* Hope you enjoyed the chapter at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Obviously, there will be more sex going forward, but I'm not gonna turn this into mindless porn, there's still a story to tell=)_


	16. Stepping in

Stiles's stress levels subsided significantly after the weekend filled with hot sex. Sure he still had to study and there was still the annoying BRP group, but nothing seemed to dampen his good mood. Liam was right, after all, once Stiles and Derek resolved the mutual sexual frustration, they stopped bickering over every little thing. Or rather they still did, cause Derek was still a dick… but now it felt more like flirting than an actual argument.

Speaking of Liam. The boy made an appearance the very next day and he and Stiles goofed around the whole morning playing cards, while Derek went to get some papers from the office. When the Alpha came back, he wordlessly planted a 20 dollar bill in front of Liam and then hugged Stiles from behind, kissing him on the neck tenderly.

Stiles felt the goosebumps cover his arms while his face heated with a blush at having this sudden display of affection in front of the kid. He stole a careful glance at him to gauge his reaction and was happy to see that Liam didn't appear the least bit uncomfortable. If anything he looked kinda supercilious as he rolled his eyes demonstratively.

"Fucking finally," he scoffed, shaking his head.

"Language," Derek murmured into Stiles's neck, not at all paying attention to the kid. And good thing he didn't because the teen rolled his eyes again, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

It was no secret that neither Stiles nor Derek were particularly careful about keeping their language clean. But Derek always reprimanded Liam whenever he cursed, probably out of a sense of responsibility for the boy. It was one of those "do as I say, not as I do" that Stiles was never a big fan of, but Liam was smart enough not to argue.

Liam's relationship with Derek was not as easygoing as the one he had with Stiles. Derek set clear boundaries right from the start that he was not going to put up with attitude, and Liam made sure to always at least _appear _respectful, even if he would pull a face or stick his tongue out as soon as the Alpha turned away.

Stiles was not treated to the same level of reverence. Liam talked freely in his presence, cussing him out on occasion as he would his buddy. Stiles didn't really mind, because he knew there was no malicious intent behind those words. But if Derek was within an earshot he always demanded an immediate apology.

Liam was not a bad kid but like any teenager, he was prone to backtalk and occasional moodiness. Even though Stiles has been on the receiving end of the boys temper a few times, he has never put his foot down to address it. For one, he was afraid to break the carefully built trust between them, and secondly, Derek was already playing the bad cop so Stiles never felt like he had to add to it. Derek clearly disagreed but kept his thoughts to himself.

Stiles still had two exams to pass, and even though they were nowhere near as hardcore as the last one, he still studied diligently for them. Derek wasn't kidding when he said he will enforce a bedtime. Though Stiles couldn't find it in him to complain when he was put to bed day after day with mind-blowing orgasms, his brain shutting down on its own from exertion after the vigorous sex. He slept like a baby, waking up happy and well-rested. If this was what it meant to have a bedtime, then he was content with having one for the rest of his life.

Since he had a bit more time now, Stiles was catching up with all the missed hours at work. His paychecks came in and he had a hard time believing that his jeep payments were in fact subtracted, given how much money he was still getting. When he mentioned it to Derek, the Alpha told him to take it to the HR if he had complaints and that the managing director was not going to deal with the salary of an intern. Stiles just smiled (knowing that Derek was full of it) and dropped it.

He was in the middle of cleaning the vials after cataloguing the results of the latest drug test when the usual calm in the lab elevated to an excited murmur. He raised his eyes and saw Derek strolling around checking on the ongoing research and experiments.

_What is he doing here?_ Derek never came to the lab before.

The Alpha glanced over at him and Stiles felt a surge of adrenaline knowing the whole lab had their eyes on the Hot Hale. Thankfully Derek's gaze brushed over him and he continued with whatever discussion he was engaged in with the R&D manager. Stiles knew nobody was paying him any attention and yet he still felt nervous when Derek passed him. So nervous that he managed to accidentally knock the whole rack of freshly cleaned vials to the ground, the booming sound of shattered glass turning every single eye in his direction.

_Good one, Stiles! Way to bring attention to yourself!_

Stiles let out a quiet "Shit" which was still too loud in the sudden silence that followed the crash. He heard a disapproving tsk-tsk from his supervisor, Finstock, and felt horribly stupid. He wouldn't be surprised if the guy publicly scolded him just to score some points with the managing director, but thankfully he spared Stiles further embarrassment. It's not that accidents never happened, but the timing couldn't have been worse. And knowing Derek, he was never gonna let him live that down.

Flushing crimson and not meeting anyone's eyes Stiles muttered "Sorry" and dropped to his knees to start collecting the big pieces of glass, but before he could touch anything a strong arm caught his wrist.

"Gloves," Derek said simply, not a hint of reprimand in his voice. "We don't want anyone getting injured."

Stiles nodded with a sheepish smile. Derek didn't look the least bit irritated, his expression was soft and perhaps even affectionate. Stiles felt a strong urge to kiss him. Luckily, Jess quenched that imprudent desire by thrusting the thick rubber gloves in his hand as she and Jen already started cleaning the mess he had made. No one paid any more attention to the incident and Derek kept on with his lab tour.

Before leaving the Alpha made sure to quiz in detail about the experiment that Stiles was working on, allowing him to chip in and redeem himself, which Stiles did since Finstock didn't know the details. Derek already knew everything, because Stiles was prattling about it for the past 3 nights, so the only reason he could have brought it up again was for Stiles to gain back his footing with his superiors.

Derek even smiled at him and said "very good" - which was sooo unusual for the dickish Alpha. Of course, Stiles didn't really know how Derek conducted himself at work, he just knew that at home he would never get praise for simply doing what he was supposed to. Derek was probably trying to mitigate any potential reproof that could take place once he left, and Stiles vowed to show his appreciation at the nearest opportunity.

"Stilinski? See me in my office, when you are done here," Derek told him just before leaving.

Stiles nodded and hoped that no one picked up on that stupid grin that he couldn't seem to get rid of.

* * *

xxx

"You wanted to see me, _Sir_?" Stiles asked, enunciating the title with a mock grin as he entered Derek's office 15 minutes later.

"Ah yes, Mr. Stilinski, there is a matter I wanted to discuss with you," Derek replied, his face fully serious.

Stiles glanced around to see if he perhaps missed somebody in the room, but it was empty.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Are you lost, Mr. Stilinski?"

"Uhm, no. So, uh, what is it?" Stiles sat down, eyeing Derek curiously.

"I have gotten complaints about your work conduct," Derek said, watching Stiles frown in confusion. "Constant attitude, laziness, tardiness, and now also carelessness and language. This is not something we tolerate in Hale Industries."

Ok, now Stiles finally understood where this was going. Derek was.. uh.. _roleplaying_? Stiles always thought that RP was something that "old" people engaged in during their midlife crisis to bring a new spark into their boring sex lives. He was sure he and Derek were not quite there yet. But despite his bias, his dick swelled in his pants at the idea.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Derek asked, eyeing him sternly.

Stiles easily slipped into the role of a fidgeting employee being grilled by his boss. "I uh… I know I haven't been performing but please, Mr. Hale, give me a chance. I really need this job."

"I don't know…" Derek drawled, appearing conflicted as he tapped a pen against his desk. Stiles wished he was wearing that suit again. But even without it Derek looked sexy as hell in his role of an irate boss and Stiles wanted to jump him right then and there.

"Please, I'll do anything to make it worth your while," he said after a small hesitation. He tilted his head and cast his husband a suggestive smile.

Derek didn't break the character. He regarded Stiles with the same domineering expression and then brushed his fingers through the stubble on his chin. "Show me, and I'll think about it."

Taking it for an invitation that it was, Stiles walked around the desk and then dropped to his knees without taking his eyes off Derek's face. The Alpha's jaw tensed as if he was fighting a smile. But even if Stiles didn't see the struggle on his face, the growing bulge in his pants was just as telling.

Stiles didn't ask for permission, he reached over to unbuckle Derek's belt and unzip his jeans. In the last couple of days, he got well acquainted with being in this position. But that was always in the safety of their home behind closed doors. Doing it in the office was surprisingly thrilling and by the time Stiles freed Derek's erection, he was just as hard himself.

He cast a quick glance at the Alpha and Derek's eyes were flashing with desire. Stiles loved knowing that he could bring that kind of reaction out of the cocky Alphahole. He teased him for a bit, licking around the tip of his cock to get the impatient grunt he knew would come.

"You are not gonna keep your job by stalling, Stilinski," Derek growled. Stiles considered that just as good. He had to resist the urge to reply something cheeky, trying to keep himself in character.

"Yes, Mr. Hale," he nodded solemnly and swallowed Derek all the way to the shaft, relaxing his throat to accommodate his impressive size. Stiles was not a pornstar Omega, but he knew how to give a good head, and judging by Derek's responses, the Alpha was enjoying himself immensely.

His efforts were interrupted by the ring of Derek's landline and the Alpha didn't think twice before picking up. "Yes Angela, bring them in," he said to the phone before hanging it.

_What the FUCK?!_

Stiles choked on the cock in his mouth and made an attempt to lift his head, but Derek pressed him back down hissing a quiet "Stay down."

Stiles heard the door open and felt the spike of adrenaline fill his veins. He kept himself very still knowing that the desk was obscuring him from the visitors as long as they didn't walk around it. The clacking of Angela's heels filled the room and the approaching sound did wonders to Stiles' heart rate. Derek's cock twitched in his mouth with obvious excitement and Stiles fought a completely inappropriate giggle that threatened to leave his throat.

There was a sound of rustling papers as the Omega came closer to the desk.

"Thank you, Angela, you can take the rest of the day off," Derek's voice was calm and collected as if he didn't have Stiles's lips pressing tightly around his shaft.

"Thank you, Mr. Hale."

Once the door closed behind her, Stiles finally lifted his head, gasping for air because he kinda forgot to breathe. "That was a dick move," he huffed, glaring at the Alphahole.

Derek smirked down at him, looking like he just won a lottery. "I thought you knew that I AM a dick."

"I almost suffocated on your cock there..."

Derek chuckled, "I told you to stay down, and never told you not to breathe."

Stiles couldn't keep the scowl any longer and grinned back at him. Death by suffocating on cock would make him an auspicious adept for the Darwin Award. "You loved the thrill. I didn't know you were into this."

"Me neither," Derek said, smiling warmly at him. Then he cleared his throat and schooled his features back into stern expression, "I believe you have some unfinished business, Mr. Stilinski," he hinted at his erection.

Stiles pondered whether it would be worth it to leave the Alpha blue-balled as a payback but in the end, decided that one dick in the relationship was enough. "Yes, Mr. Hale," he said with a barely plausible 'shy' smile as he got back in character and resumed his ministrations.

Somewhere in the middle of it, his own phone rang but Stiles ignored it, not willing to break the scene again. Watching Derek's face as he came in his mouth was something Stiles would never get tired of. And the pleased expression he was rewarded with after he swallowed every drop was totally worth the achy jaw and the bruised knees.

That was when his phone rang again and Stiles frowned at the annoying ringtone breaking the magic of Derek's blissful expression.

"Could be important," the Alpha pointed out, just as Stiles was ready to send the call into the voicemail. "Could be..."

"Liam," they said in unison and Stiles answered the phone.

"Stiles? Hey, you busy?" he heard Liam's voice from the other side.

He gave a quick nod to Derek to confirm that it was in fact the boy. "Hey kiddo, what's up?"

"I sort of got in trouble at school. The principal wants to see my folks, and I uh… I said I'm staying with you."

"Okay, I'll come," he said, raising a palm at Derek's inquiring gaze. "Which school?"

"East Bridge Junior High."

"Ok, be right there."

Derek raised an eyebrow waiting for Stiles to elaborate.

"Liam got into some sort of trouble at school and the principal asked to see the parents. He called me instead."

"What kind of trouble?"

"He didn't say."

"Ok, let's go," Derek said, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"Wait. Where are _you_ going?"

"Don't be daft, Stilinski. You look like you still belong behind one of the school desks. If the parents are called to school they don't want to see a barely legal Beta."

That made sense, so Stiles didn't argue. Derek being older and an Alpha would probably work better in such a situation.

As they drove to Liam's school, Stiles glanced over at his husband. Derek had his usual focused expression, that Stiles often mistook for arrogance, and yet he just dropped everything to go and help a street kid that Stiles practically forced upon him. Although 'dropped everything' might have been an overstatement, since he wasn't exactly _working_. And to think about it...

"Why did you come to the lab today?" Stiles asked, having a sudden suspicion that Derek's visit might have been not work-related whatsoever.

"No particular reason. I need to make an appearance every once in a while to see for myself how things are going."

"Huh… In other words, you missed me so much that you found an excuse to come into the lab?"

"Maaaaybe," Derek drawled, an amused smile playing on his lips. "And maybe I just wanted to see you on your knees with your pretty little lips around my cock."

That statement made Stiles blush. And not just because there was a subtle compliment about his '_pretty_ little lips' but also because Derek _pretty_ much admitted that he did in fact miss him. And it felt _pretty _damn good.

* * *

xxx

Liam's school was only a 10 min drive from the office. The halls were quiet and most of the students were already gone, but here and there one could still hear the afternoon classes taking place. They found Liam sitting in front of the principal's office. The kid slouched on the bench miserably, his face adorned with a fresh set of bruises.

"Hey," the boy greeted them guiltily, not quite meeting their eyes.

"Hey, what happened?" Stiles crouched down to examine his face.

"I'm fine," Liam brushed off Stiles's hand and Stiles saw his battered knuckles. The door to the office opened and a tall woman in her late 40s came out.

"Hello, I assume you are the ones taking care of Liam while his uncle is abroad?"

Stiles cast a quick side glance at Derek, but the Alpha agreed readily. "Yes, we are. Derek Hale," he introduced himself, casting her one of his charming smiles.

The woman instinctively fixed her hair, her expression changing from the 'tough principal' to a 'lady in the company of a handsome man'. "I'm Sharon Waters, the principal of East Bridge, nice to meet you, Mr. Hale," she said, offering her hand. With the look Derek was giving her, Stiles half expected him to kiss it, but thankfully he didn't go as far. Stiles introduced himself as well (though with significantly less farce), and they were invited to come in.

"Gentlemen, the reason I wanted to see you, is because Liam got already in a third fight over the last couple of months and I have a feeling the notes I have been sending have not been reaching you."

Both Stiles and Derek looked at Liam, who fidgeted in his seat guiltily. The boy never mentioned any fighting nor the notes.

"No, they have _not_," Derek confirmed, glaring at the teen.

"I know that boys will be boys and all that. But this school has zero-tolerance for physical violence and trust me when I tell you, that these fights were not just friendly roughing between friends. After all, Liam's face speaks for itself and Theo's doesn't look any better."

Liam grumbled something under his nose and the woman cast him another stern glare before turning back to Derek. "It also came to my attention that Mr. Dunbar was the one starting those fights."

"That's not true!" the boy protested.

"Is it not true, that you threw the first punch?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I did, but…"

"No buts. We have been over this Liam, starting fights is absolutely unacceptable. Obviously my lectures are not making an impression on you, so I hope Mr. Hale here will manage to get through to you better."

"Oh I will," Derek growled, making Stiles' insides clench with unease. "Don't worry, Mrs. Waters. This will _not_ happen again." Even though he wasn't looking at Liam, that part was obviously addressed to the boy. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention," he added, giving her another charming smile.

The firm lines on the principal's face immediately softened. "He is a good boy," she said in a conciliatory manner. "His grades are very good and he rarely gives teachers any trouble. I would hate to suspend him, but if we have any more incidents I will be forced to take disciplinary measures."

"That won't be necessary, Mrs. Waters. I will _address_ the issue."

Stiles's stomach did another flip flop at his tone and he had no doubt that Liam's did the same. At this point, Stiles was not even sure whether Derek just played the role of a stern guardian, or he actually meant it.

The principal stood up and offered her hand, thanking them for coming to fetch Liam and then proceeded to eyefuck Derek all the way to the door. The three of them walked in silence till they reached the parking lot, and Stiles finally let out a nervous chuckle.

"Well, I bet you are gonna be in trouble all the time now, cause Mrs. Waters totally developed a crush on Derek," he quipped, prompting an uncertain smile from the boy.

"Thanks, guys, you did me a solid there," Liam said as he hid his bruised hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll be going."

"Oh no you don't," Derek stopped him, "Get in the car."

"But I…"

"_Liam. _I wasn't asking." Derek opened the car door and nodded for the kid to get in.

Liam glared at him sullenly, but when Derek didn't cave, he shook his head and climbed in the backseat with an exaggerated sigh. Derek closed the door firmly, clearly not in the mood for the display of teenage defiance. Stiles touched his arm and gave him a placating look.

"He called me so that he could _avoid_ trouble, not so that you could chew him out." He was happy that the kid trusted him enough to ask for help knowing he will be giving away personal information and he didn't want Liam to feel like he made the wrong choice.

This visit gave them more information than what they got out of the boy in weeks. They now knew his last name, his phone number, the school he attended, and the fact that he was living with an uncle, who he feared enough not to give the notes and to ask Stiles to cover for him in school.

"I'm not going to _chew him out_, Stiles," Derek said, sounding annoyed that he had to justify his actions. "But I'm also not letting him go without making him explain what happened." When Stiles still didn't look convinced, he added, "Besides, I'm not so sure he shouldn't be getting in trouble. I know I would have and I'm pretty sure your dad wouldn't praise you either in this kind of situation."

"I wouldn't know. I was always smart enough not to get caught," Stiles chaffed.

"Cheeky little shit," Derek replied, pulling him into a quick kiss.

When their lips parted, Stiles tried one more time to soften him up. "He finally asked for help, Derek. Don't make him regret it."

"I'll try."

* * *

xxx

The drive home was a silent affair. Liam was sulking in the backseat, Derek focused on the driving, and Stiles decided for once to let things play out on their own instead of forcing a conversation that would probably remain unappreciated by either party.

He was grateful that Derek stopped by a Thai place for a takeaway before going home. The Alpha didn't ask Stiles nor Liam what they would like and ordered for everyone based on their previous choices. No one objected. Liam was probably not feeling brave enough to argue and Stiles would have ordered the same thing anyway. Besides, it was not a good time to quarrel over little things.

When Liam's bruises were attended to and his eating turned into moving noodles around the plate, Derek finally broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Well?"

The boy didn't say anything, but the tension in his shoulders intensified. Stiles was torn between jumping to the kid's defense and letting Derek handle it.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Derek's tone was firm, but not cutting, so Stiles decided to take a back seat for now.

"I'm sorry," the boy told the plate.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For calling you."

"No, kiddo," Derek's voice and expression softened immediately. "We are glad you called. I'm sure there was a _reason_ why you didn't want to get your uncle involved."

Liam fidgeted, recognizing the trick. "I just didn't want to disappoint him," he said, his eyes still fixed on his plate. Stiles didn't believe that excuse for a second.

"Huh. So disappointing _us_ is ok, then?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

The boy finally lifted his gaze to look at Derek incredulously. "You are?" His shocked eyes darted to Stiles in a silent question. Obviously, it was a big deal for the kid and their regard did matter to him way more than they suspected. Stiles probably ought to have played along to make an impression, but he didn't have it in him seeing how much it would mean to Liam.

"Of course not," he said, rubbing the boy's shoulder comfortingly. "But we would like to know why you get into fights."

"Cause I'm sick of being a Beta," Liam said bitterly.

Stiles was surprised by that statement, but apparently Derek was not. "And you think that using your fists will get you to turn faster?" he asked sternly.

"Worked for others," the kid grumbled under his nose.

"No it did _not_ because it doesn't happen overnight, and whoever is saying otherwise is lying. Besides, what exactly do you think will change once you are an Alpha? You think everyone will start tiptoeing around you singing Glory to the King? You think you won't be teased and challenged on every step by the lower dynamics? And what then, you gonna punch them too?"

"Theo is an Alpha," Liam argued. "And a _dick_, he deserved it."

"Fair enough, I'll take your word for it. So was this always the case? All the fights were with Alphas?"

"Well, no…"

"That's what I thought. And how often do you pick up a fight?"

"I don't pick up fights… I just get angry."

"Well kiddo, that ends now. You can get angry all you want, but you won't be channeling that anger into your fists. That is absolutely unacceptable. Not only will it get you suspended and later kicked out of school, but more importantly, it is a very dangerous habit to develop, especially once you turn into an Alpha. Unless of course, you are fine with being an abusive bully?"

Liam's eyes widened in shock.

"Imagine if I used my fists every time I got angry? Neither you nor Stiles would still be breathing."

Stiles gave him a skeptical look. He wasn't sure whether Derek was the right man to preach really since he used his intimidating Alphahole presence quite often. But it was true that he never used his fists and he could definitely do real harm if he did.

"Being an Alpha is not about being strong enough to overpower others, it's about being strong enough to _protect_ others. If you won't learn to control your temper you will end up hurting people you care about. And I'm sure, you don't want that, do you?"

"No, Sir," the kid muttered dejectedly.

"So next time somebody provokes you, teases you, or is being an ass, you will think how your actions can harm your future and those around you, take a deep breath, and walk away. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Seeing his words have taken effect, Derek allowed his expression to soften. "Trust me, kid, I know better than anyone what it's like to feel pressured to 'get there already'. But you can't let that pressure get the better of you. The most defining trait of an Alpha is not strength, it's responsibility. For yourself and for others. So if you want to get there sooner rather than later, start by cleaning up your act."

It was obvious that Derek was not just scolding him for the sake of it, he was speaking from experience. Experience that Stiles didn't have and couldn't really relate to. He had to admit that leaving this to Derek was a correct call after all, even though he felt really bad for the kid who looked quite miserable after the stern lecture he received.

Stiles wanted to lift the boy's spirits by offering to play a game of Fortnite, but Liam said that he had homework to do and went to "sulk" by himself at the desk. Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but Derek put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, so Stiles let it go, giving the boy some space.

Instead, he and Derek settled down with a notebook for their face-checking routine. They have been slacking quite a bit ever since Stiles' exam period started, so they were still far from done. But Stiles couldn't seem to focus today, his gaze constantly traveling to the teenager slouched over the desk.

"_Stiles._"

By the tone, he figured it was not the first time Derek called his name as he zoned out again.

The Alpha followed his gaze and tilted his head to the side. "He is fine."

"You were hard on him." Stiles didn't mean for it to sound accusatory, even though it probably did.

"I was not. I only told him what he needed to hear."

"Still, he…"

"_HE_ can hear you quite well from here, you know," Liam called, without turning his head.

Stiles and Derek exchanged an amused look. Perhaps the boy was really fine.

"See. I'm telling you, not everyone is a sensitive drama queen like you, Stilinski."

"Fuck you, Derek."

"Watch your mouth," the Alpha threatened, though his tone was definitely teasing.

"Or what?" Stiles cooed flirtatiously.

"Or I'll fill it with my…"

"GET A ROOM!" Liam shouted from the desk, making them both chuckle. If the kid was back to being lippy, then he was most definitely fine, so Stiles and Derek followed his advice and excused themselves to the bedroom.

* * *

xxx

When Stiles emerged from their "cave of sin" a couple hours later, the kid was already gone. Stiles went to take a leak and then decided to put away Derek's laptop that they left on the sofa, but as he approached it he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Derek! Derek! Oh my fucking God. DEREK!"

The face staring at him from the screen was one of the muggers.

* * *

_TBC_


	17. Falling-out

_Author's note: To all the spankos I promise there will be at least one more discipline scene in the fic, as well as a couple less serious ones. Nothing in this chapter though._

_Fluff and drama inc;)_

* * *

Kelvin Morton. That was the name of the thug. Derek recognized him too, even though when they saw him he was clean-shaven with a short military haircut, and in the picture, he had a beard and long hair.

Stiles sent the name to Jordan right away with instructions to dig whatever he can on him. Derek did the same with one of his trusted private investigators and the next day they were back to Beacon Hills grilling the Deputy for info.

"Does the name Deucalion ring a bell?"

Both Stiles and Derek shook their heads and Jordan turned the computer screen to show them a man in his mid-40s. There was absolutely no doubt that the guy was an Alpha. Even in the photo, his face exerted dominance and power. He was one of those Alphas who could command respect with a single look.

"Shady guy. He has a gun store and a shooting range, though I'm pretty sure that it's being used mostly for money laundering. In reality, he runs a range of underworld operations from drug trafficking to contract killing."

"A crime lord, huh," Stiles scoffed.

"And a sneaky motherfucker. He has been charged 5 times and walked 5 times. He must have some very powerful friends at the top. The evidence magically disappears, the jury is bought, he gets a mistrial… yadda yadda yadda."

Stiles and Derek exchanged a look.

"So how does he connect to Kelvin Morton?"

"The gun you gave me has been purchased by Deucalion's gun shop and Kelvin worked 2 months at his shooting range 3 years ago."

"Is that enough?" Derek asked.

Jordan sighed. "It's enough to draw the connection and nothing else. Derek, if you are on Deucalion's shit list, this is serious."

"That was never in doubt, Jordan," Derek replied, his tone as grave as the expression on his face. "What else is there?"

"He works as a shop assistant at the local electronics store. Single, childless. Spent 3 months in jail for assault 10 years ago, a couple parking tickets, nothing major."

"Anything to tie either of them to Mason Palmer or Peter Hale?"

Jordan stared at him. Derek ignored his gaze, his fingers running on the keyboard to check himself.

"I know what you are thinking, Derek," Jordan finally said. "And if you are saying what I think you are saying, then it's not safe for you to stay here."

"It's fine, they won't kill me."

"You brought me a _gun_."

"That's because Stiles decided to jump around screaming 'police'."

Stiles shrunk under the glare Jordan regarded him with. "Hey, focus on Palmer and Co., I'm the good guy here," he said defensively.

Jordan cast him an annoyed look, the one he often sent to Jackson when the Omega was in full brat mode. "I think it's time you tell me the full story."

Stiles glanced at Derek since it wasn't his decision to make. He asked Jordan for a favor, but clearly that was how far the Deputy was willing to go blind and Stiles wasn't really surprised given the circumstances.

Derek rubbed his forehead weighing his options and then capitulated with a sigh, probably figuring that it was safer to give Parrish the full picture rather than having him fill in the blanks himself and jump to conclusions.

Jordan listened intently without interrupting. Stiles felt the disapproval radiate from the Alpha as Derek described the shooting episode, but thankfully Jordan refrained from commenting.

"Your dad is gonna kill you both," he told Stiles when Derek finished.

"I know."

"You have to tell him."

Stiles grimaced but nodded. He knew he will have to tell the full story eventually.

"So what now?" Derek asked, changing the topic.

"I'll put surveillance on Morton, hopefully, he will give us something to work with. I'll try to dig more and see if something connects to Blast Pharmaceuticals, Palmer, or your uncle."

"You have to keep a low profile on this."

"Of course," Jordan agreed.

"And what should we do?" Stiles chimed in.

"Nothing. You sit tight and wait."

Derek opened his mouth to protest, but Jordan cut him off, "If you approach the guy yourself, they'll know we are onto them and we will lose whatever advantage we have right now. No, you have to just go on as if nothing happened. And don't give them any reason to get rid of you. Remember that whatever you do can inadvertently put _Stiles_ in danger."

Derek closed his mouth admitting defeat.

* * *

xxx

Doing nothing and going on as if nothing happened was not a hardship. For Stiles anyway. He guessed that Derek was not happy about finally getting a solid lead - a name of a person who could be behind the murder of his family - and not being able to act on it. The Alpha didn't complain though. Whether it was because he was serious about Stiles's safety, or simply because he was too grateful to finally progress with the investigation to complain, Stiles didn't know. Though it was probably both.

Meanwhile, Stiles focused on work and the remaining exams. His calendar also showed a big red mark for his biennial FTD testing coming next week, which he conveniently ignored in favor of "more pressing" matters. He passed the last two exams with flying colors but his good mood was gone when he heard that Scott failed three of his.

His best friend was quite serious about his studies but just as Stiles expected, managing a part-time job with schoolwork proved quite hard for Scott and took a toll on his grades. And of course, the proud Alpha refused to accept any financial help. Isaac tried. Stiles didn't even try knowing Scott would never let him pay for anything again.

And now Scott failed. And Stiles felt like crap. He always helped his friend and now he was so preoccupied with his own life-drama that he never even bothered asking how Scott was managing. And it turned out… he wasn't. Stiles didn't have the subjects that Scott failed, so he couldn't even tutor him.

Feeling useless he just slumped on the sofa with a beer, staring blankly at the wall. There was nothing else to do anyway. Ruby jumped in his lap probably sensing his grim mood but unable to make it better.

That's how Derek found him. Tipsy and sad, in all the senses of the word.

"What happened?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries.

"Hello to you too."

"_Stiles." _

_Alpha-mode activated, _Stiles thought irritably. But then he looked at Derek's face and the concern he found there was kinda sweet.

"Scott failed his exams."

"And?"

Stiles fought the rising irritation because getting mad at Derek was not the correct response. He kept his tone even as he explained patiently. "And I did nothing to help."

"Did he ask for your help?"

"Well no. But clearly he struggles financially now that I don't… you know…"

Derek frowned. "Scott's finances are not your responsibility," he said as if it was something so obvious he couldn't believe Stiles was not getting it.

"But I always helped."

"He is an Alpha. If anything he should have been the one taking care of you, not vice versa."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "We never played this dynamic shit game. I would never even stay friends with Scott if he started flaunting his dominance at me." He realized that perhaps he should have weighed his words better because he _was _in a relationship with Derek, who never hesitated to 'flaunt his dominance at him'.

Thankfully Derek didn't seem to take offense. "That's beside the point, " he said, shaking his head. "Shielding Scott from his responsibilities would have never helped him in the long run, so now he is stumbling over it, just the way he would have a couple years ago when he started uni."

"So basically it's still my fault."

"Scott allowed himself to be shielded. He is an Alpha, it's his job to know."

Stiles resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. "You are awfully strict with your own dynamic."

"Because that's the way it is. As an Alpha, you have the responsibility to take care of and protect all those that are weaker than you."

_Yeah, I've heard that one before._

"So what, he can't even accept help now because he is supposed to be a superman?"

"No Stiles, knowing when to ask and/or accept help is one of the things that _responsible_ people do. But he will have to figure it out himself. It's not _your_ job to solve his problems for him. Your attempts to do that is what got him in this situation, to begin with."

Stiles threw his hands in the air in indignation. "And this is supposed to make me feel better!?"

That was the second time in a course of two minutes that Derek basically said, that even though it's not his fault, it's still kinda his fault. And that was about as helpful as putting out the fire with gasoline.

Derek stared at him for a moment and then ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "Yeah, I'm not good at this."

Stiles silently agreed but refrained from commenting.

"Sorry, I didn't realize... Let's try again. Come here."

Stiles hesitated only for a split of a second, before getting up and practically falling into Derek's embrace. The strong arms wrapped around him tightly and immediately the calm content feeling washed over him, dulling the initial frustration. In fact, it felt so nice Stiles wondered whether it wasn't one of Derek's special were-Alpha abilities, because the tighter he held him, the less anything else seemed to matter.

"We should do this more often," Stiles purred into his chest.

Derek chuckled and placed a kiss on top of his head. "All you have to do is ask."

"I don't want to ask."

Another soft chuckle, the hands tightening around him.

"Ok."

* * *

xxx

The weekend after the end of the exams was marked as the club night. Lydia organized it each year and didn't take no for an answer, so even Derek ended up begrudgingly agreeing under her pressure.

Liam had a school trip that day and Stiles was happy that they won't be leaving him alone for the evening while they went to have some adult fun. The boy seemed on edge lately. He stopped by almost every day and spent the night at least a couple times a week, privatizing Stiles' room for good. (Well Stiles pretty much moved to Derek's room, so that wasn't really an issue.) Liam acted normal for the most part but Stiles could tell that something was bothering him.

Derek disregarded it as teenage hormones and told him to stop fretting, and while Stiles agreed that it could have been just a 'puberty thing', he still wasn't convinced. Whenever he asked Liam about it, the boy denied everything and promised that everything was fine. So perhaps he really was overthinking it...

But then he asked him what he would like for his birthday and the boy looked as if he had been punched. He forbade Stiles (or Derek for that matter) to buy him any presents or to throw him a party. Liam was so adamant about it and looked so upset, that Stiles didn't dare to argue and never brought up the topic again.

Derek thought that maybe Liam had some bad memories associated with that day. Maybe his parents died on his birthday? After all, they still knew next to nothing about the kid. Stiles kept contemplating whether he should just ask Jordan to run a background check on Liam Dunbar, or whether it would be a breach of their carefully built trust. Derek would have probably done it already if his last attempt in forcing the issue didn't result in the kid disappearing on them for a week.

...

The club was packed by the time they got there. Scott, Isaac, Lydia, and Jordan were already sitting at their reserved table with their faces covered in fluorescent body paint. Danny and Jackson were running late, which was not unusual. The music was booming through the dynamics and people on the dancefloor were jumping to the beat, their faces glowing with neon colors. Stiles was eager to join them, the atmosphere swaying him right away.

Derek went to get them drinks and Isaac grinned at Stiles suggestively.

"What?"

"I heard that you guys have finally _consumed_ your marriage."

Stiles's first instinct was to shush him, but then he realized that Jordan already knew everything, which meant that Lydia knew everything as well and he wouldn't be surprised if she fed Danny and Jackson some version of the truth as well by now. So basically everyone knew about the BRP anyway.

"Well, you could say that," he commented with a lopsided smile.

"Liam said you are like rabbits during the rutting season."

"Rabbits don't have a rutting season, they just go at it whenever..."

"_Exactly._"

Stiles tilted his head to the side, letting Isaac have this win, while everyone else stifled their giggles.

Danny and Jackson came shortly after, both already wearing the fluorescent makeup, making Stiles and Derek the only people not conforming with the club's "dress code" for the night.

"Let's go get the paint!" Stiles hopped off his seat excitedly, grabbing Derek by the arm.

"Over my dead body, Stilinski."

Stiles rolled his eyes, not really surprised by that response. "Who's the drama queen now?" He didn't press him though and just went alone, allowing himself a flirtatious smile towards the pretty Beta who colored his face, as a small payback. But when he turned to see if Derek was looking, he found that the Alpha was engaged in a discussion with Jordan, paying him zero attention.

_Whatever._

He fully intended to let Derek be and just enjoy the night out with his friends, but then the beat changed to the tunes of his favorite song of late and before he knew it, his hand grabbed Derek's to pull him on the dancefloor. The reaction was as expected. The Alpha didn't even budge, raising an eyebrow with a hint of annoyance.

"Come on, grumpy. Dance first, talk later."

"I'm not dancing, Stiles."

"It's ok, big guy, I won't judge if you're terribad."

"I don't _want _to."

"It won't hurt, I promise."

"_Stiles._"

And there it was - that look. The 'cut the crap' one Derek used when he was done with the banter and further arguing would not bode well. Stiles tried not to feel dejected and was saved by Lydia who took his hand with a cheerful "Let's go" and dragged him right in the middle of the jumping crowd.

Stiles was once again reminded why he spent so many years in love with the pretty Omega despite his feelings never being reciprocated. She was just awesome like that. Two minutes of her goofing around to the beat and Stiles all but forgot that she was not the partner he was hoping to get to the dancefloor. Who cared about that 'grumpyhole', anyway? Stiles was here to have fun!

Suddenly he was spun around, the rapid movement making him lose his footing for a second, but the strong arms held him tight, while Derek's lips pressed against his in a kiss that was surprisingly rough and demanding. The crowd kept jumping around them, but Stiles didn't care about the song anymore, savoring the uncharacteristically salacious kiss. He wondered what could have possibly sparked such an unexpected burst of passion in Derek.

"Okaaay," he drawled when Derek finished raping his mouth with his tongue. "What was that?"

"Just a small reminder about who you are here with."

_That sounded possessive. Did he just come all the way to stake his claim?_ Stiles glanced at their table just in time to see Isaac and Scott fist-bumping each other.

Stiles wrapped his hand around Derek's neck, fingers brushing through his hair. "Hmm… I'm not sure, could you remind me again?"

...

Having their fill of 'reminders' on the dancefloor, the two retreated to the bar to raise the alcohol levels back up appropriately. Derek even let Stiles have a shot of vodka, something that was normally off-limits for him. All in all the evening was turning out great and nothing foreshadowed it turning to shit shortly after.

"Derek? Is that you?"

Stiles recognized her right away. The Omega looked just as beautiful as she did in the picture with Derek, her features soft, her expression kind and amiable, her scent incredibly feminine and alluring. Unlike Lydia who was all that but with a spunky look to it, the girl emitted meek submission, which triggered all protective instincts Stiles had in him.

"Paige," Derek breathed out surprised.

Stiles felt the Alpha tense next to him. Not that he blamed him, meeting your ex was always an awkward thing.

"I thought it's you. You look well," she said, rubbing her palms somewhat nervously. Stiles found her discomfiture quite endearing... up until he noticed the way Derek looked at her.

"So do you. How have you been?" the Alpha asked, his face a mixture of sadness, guilt, and longing.

Paige glanced at Stiles as if to remind Derek that he forgot to introduce him, but Derek seemed oblivious at his lack of etiquette.

"Hi, I'm Stiles, nice to meet you," Stiles introduced himself, offering his hand for a handshake. Paige took it with a smile so warm Stiles felt his cheeks heating with an impromptu blush. He glanced at Derek and the Alpha's gaze was fixed on Paige's hand or more precisely at the engagement ring on her finger.

Paige caught his stare but didn't hide her hand. "I've been good. I finished my degree, so I teach kids to play cello now. You?"

"Good for you." Even through the booming music Derek's voice sounded constrained. "I manage our pharmaceutical division."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

The uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Stiles wanted to say something to dissolve the tension but couldn't come up with anything.

"It was nice seeing you, Derek," Paige said, casting them both a small smile and walking away. Derek didn't reply, just following her with his gaze.

_Ok, that was so awkward..._

Stiles cleared his throat, feeling the need to say something. "Wow, her scent is something..."

"Yeah," Derek agreed absentmindedly.

"Should I be jealous?" Stiles joked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere.

"Why would you? Haven't you seen the rock on her ring finger?" His tone sounded too bitter for Stiles' liking.

"Almost as big as the one you gave her."

Derek stared at him in shock.

"I found the picture of you two, I know you were engaged," Stiles explained.

"What?! So it was _you_ going through my stuff?!" Derek barked angrily.

Stiles was taken off guard by the sudden animosity. "I wasn't going through your stuff, Derek, it just came up when we opened the boxes from the basement."

"You nosy little shit! I hope you are happy with your findings then."

"Are you mad at me or at the fact that she moved on?" Stiles snapped back.

"You have no fucking right snooping through my belongings!"

"I wasn't! You are so pissed, one would say you still have feelings for her!"

"How I feel about my ex is none of your goddamn business!"

Stiles just stared at him, processing. The hurt feeling was almost suffocating. "Fuck you, Derek," he turned on his heel and stomped off.

He went outside to get some air. Derek accused him of snooping, told him that his feelings were none of Stiles' business, and never actually denied having feelings for his ex. Stiles wasn't one to jump to conclusions, but this one seemed pretty straightforward. Hurt mixed with anger as Stiles fumed in indignation.

_None of my business? And what were we doing this whole time? Casually fucking around? Fucking asshole!_

His internal tirade was interrupted by the sounds of somebody throwing up right next to him.

"Isaac? Man, you ok?" Stiles asked, surprised.

"I swear I'm never eating at that Indian place again," Isaac croaked, retching again. Scott held him by both sides, even though Isaac clearly wasn't drunk enough to fall.

"I think we should get you home," Scott said gently.

"I swear it's the food," Isaac protested, looking between Stiles and Scott.

"Can I come with you? Stay over at your place?" Stiles asked, watching both of them frown in confusion. "Had a falling-out with Derek."

Isaac glanced at Scott and then shrugged, "Sure."

...

An hour later Derek called Isaac on the phone asking about Stiles. Isaac told him that Stiles was staying with them for the night, which was met with an awkward silence from the other side, followed by a curt "ok" and a disconnect.

Well, at least Stiles wasn't the only one pissed.

* * *

xxx

The night helped to subdue most of the anger. Don't get me wrong, Stiles was still angry and hurt, but it didn't feel like the end of the world anymore. Derek was a dick, and it was not the first time he lashed out at Stiles. That didn't necessarily mean that they are over and that everything they did was casual fucking around.

Derek's reaction to his ex suggested that there might be lingering feelings on Derek's part, and Stiles was definitely not thrilled about that. But then again, the two barely said three words to each other - hardly enough to draw definite conclusions. What Stiles needed was more information. And conveniently there was a hungover Isaac sitting right next to him, groaning into his mug of coffee.

"I need you to tell me about Paige," Stiles said.

Isaac raised his eyebrows at him and then shook his head. "I don't think it's my story to tell, Stiles."

"Yeah well, I understand your loyalty and shit, but I need to know where I stand with Derek. Because if he is not over her, I think I deserve to know."

"Well, what did Derek tell you?"

"That I'm a nosy little shit and that his feelings for her are none of my business."

"Ouch," Isaac winced sympathetically.

"The fuck?" Scott frowned in disapproval.

"I know, right? Anyway, he did tell me that they broke up after the gas leak in her apartment. He never mentioned they were engaged though. And yesterday we ran into her in the club, which was awkward as fuck. Even more so, when it turned out she got engaged again. Derek could have shown that he moved on as well," Stiles took out the spousal necklace, rubbing the ring pendant between his fingers. "But he didn't even introduce me."

"That was probably for a different reason than you think," Isaac said. He hesitated for a bit and then sighed. "You have probably noticed that Derek is not a regular Alpha."

"If you mean that he is a pissy version of Clark Kent, then yes, it was hard not to notice."

"The Hale line is probably one of the purest lines in the States. His parents were very strict about family heritage. Derek being the only male heir, it was a given that his spouse will have to be a strong female Alpha of 'breeding age', that will bring something valuable into the bloodline."

Stiles was not surprised really. Derek's old fashioned upbringing hinted at the fact that his family valued their Alpha bloodline. They were called purists, or more derogatorily - _breeders_ because in a sense, it was very similar to animal breeding where the endgame was to produce the most desirable offspring. In such families marriage was a purely political thing. Union with a Beta or Omega was absolutely out of question, not to mention same-sex marriage.

Given Derek's abilities, the family was obviously quite successful in this sense.

"All children were free to fool around with whoever they wanted, as long as they eventually fulfilled their duty to the family. Peter was like a black sheep of the family pissing all over their purist agenda. His attitude was a source of constant tension. Derek didn't really care about any of it, till he fell in love with Paige. They engaged in secret and Peter found out. So when Talia transferred part of her Hale Industries shares to Derek without any prior discussion, Peter flew off the handle and told them about Derek's engagement. I don't know the details, because Derek never talks about the specifics, but there was a _huge_ fight with furniture flying and words like "disown and disinherit" thrown around. Derek left in anger and that night the fire happened."

"Shit," Stiles grimaced, currently forgetting about the fact that he was angry with the Alpha.

"Yeah. Derek was devastated that the last words he said to his parents were hateful and bitter. His relationship with Peter never recovered. And after the gas leak, Derek became convinced that Peter was behind it."

"You are not?"

Isaac shook his head, "I know Peter for as long as I know Derek. He fools around and he is a dick but I don't believe he could have done it. Anyway, when Paige got out of a coma, Derek decided that he couldn't endanger her like this ever again. But if he told her the truth, she wouldn't have accepted it. So he told her some purist nonsense, that he changed his mind and that now that his family was gone he couldn't step all over their legacy like that…"

Stiles drew the conclusion himself, "And a Beta boyfriend or better yet husband would not conform with those lies. I get it."

Isaac nodded. "Derek stayed away from relationships after that. Obviously he didn't plan on starting one with you either."

Stiles sighed. A lot of Derek's behavior made sense now.

"Look. I can't tell you if he is over Paige or not. But yesterday when I mentioned that you and Lydia would make a cute couple and Scott went on about how you were in love with her the whole highschool, Derek pretty much sprinted after you."

Stiles laughed, the weight on his chest finally lifting somewhat. "So that's what it was? I wondered what made him suddenly change his mind."

Derek got jealous.

The knock on the door interrupted their snickers. Stiles thought that they must have summoned the Alphahole with their gossiping, but it turned out to be Liam.

"Hey Liam, the grumpy-dick sent you?"

The boy cast them a sheepish smile. "You could say that. But I come in peace!" he raised his palms in the air demonstratively, "So what happened? He looked pretty pissed and hungover."

"Lover's spat," Isaac offered helpfully when Stiles didn't answer, mulling over how to phrase it.

"Oh that," Liam said, seemingly losing interest in the topic. "Boooring. So, you coming home?"

"No. I don't think I want to. He didn't even care enough to come fetch me himself," Stiles complained sullenly.

"Oh he cares, trust me. He slept on _your _side of the bed."

Stiles was rendered speechless for a second there before finding his voice again. "And how would you even know which side I sleep on?"

"Left."

"..."

"Ok, and how did you get in again?"

"The door wasn't locked." The boy fetched Stiles' keys from his pocket and handed them over. "And I assume, this is why."

Stiles remembered asking Derek if he was taking keys because he cba to carry them around in his back pocket all night. So either Derek hoped that Stiles would come back at night... or he was so drunk he forgot to lock the door. Either way...

Stiles couldn't fight a smile stretching on his lips. Derek definitely cared.

* * *

xxx

Stiles refused to go back home with Liam because despite the situation not seeming quite as dramatic, he didn't want to be the one to make the first step. And yes, maybe that wasn't particularly mature, but hey, Derek kept calling him a teenager, so he was allowed, alright?

He didn't want to overstay his welcome at Isaac's either, so he headed to the park to clear his head. The weather was nice, and the grass area was full of people picnicking and playing frisbee. Stiles wouldn't mind being one of those couples, making out on the blanket and feeding each other strawberries.

Though it was hard to imagine Derek doing any of those things. I mean, he would make out on the blanket just fine, as long as it led to vigorous fucking. Derek was not exactly a romantic type. He always cringed so hard whenever an Alpha protagonist did some eccentric romantic gesture in the movie. He and Liam both agreed that they would sooner die than to live through so much farce and embarrassment with no guarantee of success. Stiles pointed out that that was kinda the appeal, but neither seemed to share his opinion.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the bench creaked under the weight of an extra person sitting down. Stiles didn't have to see who it was, he could recognize that elevator smell anywhere.

"Isaac?" he asked conversationally, without turning his head. It was unlikely that Derek would just randomly stumble upon him.

"Yeah."

For a while no one said anything. Stiles kept staring at the dog running after the frisbee, while Derek just sat there at a loss for words.

"I don't know how to do this," the Alpha said finally.

"Do what?"

"Make this go away. Normally I'd just get flowers of jewelry…"

Stiles turned to face him, tilting his head to the side. "So what did you bring me?"

There was a pause as Derek realized that he actually had no peace-offering. "Shit…" he scratched the back of his head with a grimace, "Well, just an apology, I guess."

"That's an impressive downgrade. But let's hear it."

Derek fidgeted, then straightened his back, then fidgeted some more and let out another "Shit."

When a minute passed and Derek still didn't produce anything that would even remotely resemble a verbal apology, Stiles shook his head incredulously. "Wow, you really suck at it!" He was torn between feeling indignant and amused at Derek's lack of composure.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok? I was an ass," Derek snapped, wincing at his own tone which came out gruff and bitter. "Seeing her… Seeing her _move on_.." he corrected, "You were right, it was hard. I guess in the back of my mind I always thought that maybe there could still be a future between us, once I put this whole shitstorm behind me," Derek trailed off and Stiles noted that this apology was certainly not making him feel any better.

"Hm," he just hummed, trying to not let on his own feelings on the matter.

"The truth is… when I came home feeling like shit, I realized that it was not because I saw my ex or because she got engaged... but because _you_ were not there with me."

Stiles felt his wounds patch up, the warmth spreading over his chest.

"So," Derek looked at him and waited for Stiles to meet his eyes. "Come home? _Please_?"

Stiles couldn't fight the smile any longer. "Ok, it's still pretty weak compared to flowers and jewelry, but since you are so strongly against romantic gestures, I guess this will have to do."

Derek shook his head in mock irritation. "You are such a brat." He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the nearby ice cream stand, "How about ice cream?"

Stiles considered the tribute and shrugged. "Ok."

Derek came back with a cone of vanilla. Stiles was pleased to note that Derek remembered his favorite, but of course, he was not going to make it easy for the Alpha.

"Oh gee. No fucking imagination. That place offers so many different flavors and toppings and you come back with this?"

"Alright," Derek said with a frown. "I'll get you another, which one do you want?"

"Vanilla."

"But that's…" then he realized that Stiles was just fucking with him. "That's it, Stilinski," he pointed a finger right into Stiles's face, "Next time I'm spanking the forgiveness into you."

As if Stiles took any of those ridiculous threats seriously anymore… "Shut up and kiss me already."

And for once Derek did as he was told.

* * *

_TBC_


	18. Boundaries

_Author's note: More Derek&Liam&Stiles angst and fluff. Warning for implied teen cp. Nothing graphic, but if it makes you uncomfortable consider yourself warned._

* * *

After their first serious quarrel things got back to normal and Stiles and Derek slipped back into their usual routine. One would expect Derek to get off Stiles's back now that they were together (well technically they were married from the start, but you know what I mean), but that was not the case at all. Derek kept bossing him around, telling him what to do and reprimanding him if Stiles didn't jump to obey.

Stiles had a feeling it was not as much about BRP anymore, it was just Derek being an Alpha and exerting control over his mate. Except Stiles was not an overly submissive Omega, and while he enjoyed Derek's bossiness on occasion, most of the time he pushed back. It was sort of art, a fine dance on the line, to give just the right amount of sass without inviting trouble. Not that Stiles always succeeded...

Liam was still a bit off, though he got better at hiding it. Stiles tried to be positive and reassuring, but it seemed that the more he praised the boy, the more Liam tried to distance himself. Stiles wondered if that was a common reaction for abused children. Sure, many people didn't know how to accept compliments, but Liam looked _beyond_ uncomfortable.

Though it never really discouraged Stiles.

"Liam got 100% on his math test again," he told Derek, prompting the usual annoyed look from the boy.

Unlike Stiles, Derek was not nearly as generous with praise, but he did acknowledge when it was due. "Damn, that's impressive. I never got that high."

"Now _that_ doesn't surprise anyone here...," Stiles teased and Liam snickered watching Derek narrow his eyes.

"_Three."_

_Was it already? _Oh right, he forgot their morning squabble about running (which as you can guess, Stiles didn't win).

"Worth it," he retorted unconcerned.

"_Four."_

_Touchy._

Stiles didn't reply, just turned around and rolled his eyes at Liam. But Derek apparently developed roentgen vision, because he somehow saw it. In one swift movement, Derek pulled Stiles over his lap, pinning him down and bringing on an indignant squeak.

"_Five_," the Alpha said calmly but with a sadistic undertow.

_What?!_

No way. He had never gotten to five. Five was never an option before. Stiles got so used to the demerits and threats, he rarely paid them attention. Derek always stopped at three or four! And now… surely he wouldn't? Not here! Not in front of… Stiles's face heated to a color of a ripe tomato as he struggled to break free.

But of course, Derek held him down with humiliating ease. "Watch and learn, Liam. This is how you deal with a cheeky Beta in need of attitude adjustment," he said, his tone a perfect mix of snark and arrogance, which always grated on Stiles.

Stiles didn't have much time to fume over Derek's egotism though because the next second loud smacks started falling down on his upturned butt. They were by no means hard, just noisy, applying virtually no sting and being all the more annoying for it.

"Cut it out! Derek! Derek, stop it!" Stiles yelped, squirming on his lap. But Derek didn't pay his protests any attention and just kept popping him. It might not have hurt, but it was still embarrassing AF and Derek seemed to be enjoying himself greatly.

"Don't worry, babe, this is a PG-13 demonstration," he told Stiles mockingly, then turned to Liam and proceeded with his lecture, "You smack all the impudence out of them like this and then," he lifted Stiles off his lap, "If they are pouting, you kiss the pout away."

With that Derek pressed his lips against Stiles's, but Stiles didn't succumb to the kiss like he usually did, twisting defiantly and trying to pull away. And of course, that didn't discourage the Alphahole in the slightest.

"And if they are _still _pouting, you spank them some more," he commented with sadistic glee as he flipped Stiles face down again and landed another dozen playful swats. "And then you kiss the pout away. Rinse and repeat."

"You are such a dick," Stiles groused, unsure whether to glare or to giggle at this ridiculous tutorial.

"I know," Derek replied, his smile so affectionate, Stiles couldn't help grinning back. This time when Derek kissed him, he was a willing participant, his heart throbbing with all the feelings left unsaid. It was unsettling how a display of Derek's dickishness could now produce so much fondness in Stiles.

When their lips finally parted, Derek smirked at Liam, "And that's how you keep your spouse in line."

Stiles punched his shoulder and Liam rolled his eyes demonstratively, grumbling under his nose, "You're gross."

* * *

xxx

A week passed and Jordan didn't have any news for them. Stiles expected Derek to turn impatient and prickly, but the Alpha kept a surprisingly level-headed attitude, saying that it was fine and such things took time.

Instead of Derek, it was Liam who had a hard time keeping his temper in check. Of course, Derek's presence was usually sufficient to nip it in the bud, but with the rising frequency of teenager's mood swings, it was only a matter of time till the boy landed himself in trouble.

As usual, it was the Spanish homework to drive the teen into a fit of pique. Liam struggled with the language and Stiles always helped him with exercises and vocabulary. Today was no different, except Stiles had to push the kid to even start on his homework and once he did, Liam kept getting upset over every little mistake and taking personal offense whenever Stiles corrected him.

It didn't help that Stiles insisted on speaking Spanish because he believed it would help the boy in the long run. Liam never really appreciated it, and today it only fueled his temper.

Stiles heard Derek's fingers still on the keyboard whenever Liam's tone went into the danger-territory. He could see the ominous glare sent towards the teenager time and time again but didn't want to call attention to it, afraid it would cause further escalation. Liam was either unaware that he was treading on thin ice, or he was already too upset to care.

"No, esto es incorrecto también. Aquí tienes que usar el subjuntivo. Sabes por qué?" Stiles asked him, but Liam ignored the question, fuming silently into his paper. Stiles waited a couple of seconds and then called him again.

"Liam?"

Silence. The brat was ignoring him on purpose.

"Liam!" Stiles called shaking his shoulder, "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Liam threw his pen against the table in full attitude. "Then maybe you should fucking try talking in a language that I speak!" he snapped.

The chair slid through the floor with a menacing screech and Derek was by his side the next second.

"How about I take my belt off and let it do the talking? Would that be a language that you speak?" he growled sternly.

Just as Stiles was about to protest against such a threat, Derek muzzled his mouth with his hand and gave Liam a pointed look.

"No... sorry," the kid grumbled.

"Take your homework and go to your room."

"But I apologized!"

"Now!"

Liam's eyes filled with angry tears as he took his books and ran to Stiles' room, the door shutting behind him with just enough force to show his displeasure, but not enough to invite repercussions.

"You didn't have to do that," Stiles said, wincing at the sound.

Derek crossed his arms on the chest. "See Stiles, that's the problem. You would let him get away with murder."

"He was just frustrated."

"He was disrespectful. And not for the first time!"

True. But it didn't change the fact that the belt talk was entirely uncalled for. "You didn't have to threaten him."

"The kid is in severe need of discipline. A good hiding would do him a world of good."

"Yeah, his face proved it time and time again just how well it works on him," Stiles snapped sarcastically.

Derek shook his head in irritation. "That's because he is being beaten, not disciplined."

"Same thing."

"No, it's not. And you _know_ it's not. I know I have never dared to speak this way to my parents. Have you?"

"No. But we are not his parents, Derek, and he is clearly neglected and abused!"

"That doesn't give him the right to act this way. You know about Isaac's childhood, he spent a lot of time at my place growing up and yet he never dared to act this way towards my parents. And they wouldn't have tolerated it either."

Stiles let out an exasperated sigh. Derek saw everything in black and white. "Each kid is different. Liam has anger issues, he told us as much. He obviously gets a lot of shit at home and here is supposed to be his safe place!"

"He still needs boundaries, Stiles. He is gonna be an Alpha soon, and while a hissy fit might be sometimes cute on an Omega, it's outright embarrassing on an Alpha. Besides, he might eventually find himself in a position where _he_ will be the one dishing out the consequences. He needs an example of what are the appropriate ones."

"Alright, fair enough. Boundaries. But don't go comparing him to yourself, and how you were disciplined growing up!"

"I'm not. I sent him to his room. That's hardly severe."

Stiles couldn't argue with that, but he still hated to see the kid so upset. "He was crying."

"He realized that he pushed too far and I laid down the law. You can go kiss it all better in a couple hours."

Stiles frowned, unwilling to leave the boy alone for so long. "He needs my help with homework."

"No, he does not. He needs to calm down and pull his shit together, then he needs to apologize, and then if he still needs help with his homework he will ask for it _politely_ and _appreciate_ it."

"I don't know…" Stiles rubbed his forehead unhappily. Derek's words didn't sound unreasonable, but he didn't want to agree with him on principle. He was sure that all Liam needed was positive reinforcement, not punishments. The idea of the kid being disciplined for anything was making him ill at ease.

"_Stiles_," Derek reached for his hand, waiting for Stiles to meet his gaze, "You are doing him a disservice by mollycoddling him. Do you want him to grow up thinking it's ok to treat others the way he just treated you?"

"Of course not."

"Then stop letting him get away with it."

"Alright, fine. I get it," Stiles capitulated raising his hands. "But I still don't want you to physically punish him."

"I will if I have to," the Alpha replied, not missing a beat.

"_Derek!_"

The Alpha raised his palm to stop Stiles's angry tirade. "I've taken everything you said into consideration, and I'm not going to drive the kid away again. I promise."

"If you do, I swear, I'll..."

"I won't," Derek said firmly, "I care about him too."

* * *

xxx

Stiles kept hovering around Liam's room like a ghost, straining his ear to get any indication (or excuse) that he should enter, till Derek took him by the wrist and forcibly dragged him away.

"I feel like I'm the one being punished," Stiles grumbled irritably as he glanced at the clock. It's been an hour. How long was Derek making the kid stay in his room anyway?

"Perhaps you should be. You could have addressed his attitude yourself, but instead, you keep letting him walk all over you."

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do."

Stiles huffed, shaking his head.

Another half an hour passed, and Stiles was tired of pretending to watch television. He got up, glancing at Derek who seemed to be immersed in work. He tried to keep his steps light, as he tiptoed around him.

"Where are you going?" the Alpha asked, his tone hinting on amused at Stiles's poor attempt at stealthiness.

"Uhm… well..."

"Just go," Derek waved his hand with an eye roll.

Stiles grinned and went to check on Liam. He knocked softly, wondering if the kid was still angry, but the timid "Come in" reassured him that was not the case.

The best word to describe the teenager would be 'deflated'. He was slouched cross-legged on the bed, the Spanish homework splayed in front of him, while he petted Ruby in his lap. The cat always seemed to sense when somebody was distressed. Liam eyed Stiles warily, biting his lip, but didn't say anything waiting for Stiles to break the ice.

"Hey," Stiles said awkwardly. Yeah, he didn't really think it through much.

"Hey."

Stiles looked around the room in hopes that something would catch his eye to help make small talk. But nothing seemed to come to mind so he sat down on the bed and nodded at the books. "Do you need help?"

"No, I finished it." Liam appeared to be just as uncomfortable. After all, he never really fought with Stiles before. "But uhm... could you look it over?"

Stiles took the book, his eyes scanning the exercise, immediately spotting the mistake. "Number 11," he said simply, giving it back to Liam.

The boy furrowed his brows searching for the error. "Oh yeah, you are right. It's indicative, right?" he glanced at Stiles waiting for confirmation. Gone was the snappy bratitude, replaced with bashful uncertainty that Liam used to display when he first started coming over.

Stiles nodded with a small smile. "You ok?" he finally asked, unwilling to dance around the matter any longer.

"I'm sorry," Liam muttered, his face a perfect picture of remorse. The apology came so fast, it was obvious the boy was feeling pretty bad about it.

Stiles wasn't particularly upset, to begin with, and now seeing the boy's rueful look, he longed to put the whole thing behind them. His dad always forced Stiles to elaborate exactly what he was sorry for, but for Stiles, this was more than enough.

He squeezed Liam's shoulder comfortingly. "It's ok, kiddo. I just wish you would tell what's bothering you."

Liam bit his lip again and for a moment, Stiles thought the kid wanted to say something, but then he schooled his features again and shook his head resolutely, "I just got mad at this stupid exercise."

Stiles resisted the urge to sigh and reminded himself that pressing the kid was not the answer.

"Do you think Derek is still mad at me?"

"No. I don't think he…"

"That depends," came Derek's voice from the doorway. "Have you apologized to Stiles?"

They both turned to watch the Alpha casually lean on the doorframe, his laid back posture in contrast with his stern tone.

"Yes he did," Stiles quickly confirmed.

"Wasn't asking you, babe."

"Yes, Alpha," Liam said, dropping his gaze shamefaced.

"Good. Now in case you are confused about the pecking order around here, let me clarify it for you. Stiles is an adult, what he says goes, and you will show him proper respect. At all times, no exceptions. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Alright. You may leave the room."

As far as Derek's rebukes went, this one was no different than the usual - firm, succinct and straight to the point. But this time, Liam didn't share the lopsided grin with Stiles when the Alpha turned around, and Stiles didn't attempt to downplay it either.

* * *

xxx

Stiles would lie if he said that Liam didn't make an effort to behave after that. He did, for a few days at least. Then something got into him again and the kid flew off the handle.

Stiles wasn't sure what exactly happened. He was not a nagging person and didn't tell Liam to do much around the apartment and when he did, the boy never took issue with some chores. Most of the time he offered help himself without being asked to.

God knows what has gotten into him to meet every Stiles's request with an attitude, or ignore them altogether. Not like Stiles was asking something unreasonable, just to help him with the dishes or to take out the trash.

Derek was busy as usual, dealing with some trouble on production, but of course, Liam's truculent behavior didn't escape him. The Alpha got off the phone just long enough to growl at the boy to "fix his attitude, before he fixed it for him". In retrospect, it was probably as much a warning for Stiles as it was for Liam. He knew he should have said something. It's just that he was way more comfortable in the role of a friend than he was in the role of a parent.

That's why it did actually hurt to be told to "stop being such a cunt". It came out of nowhere and was not only undeserved but also entirely unprovoked. For a moment there Stiles was rendered speechless. He was pulled out of shock, when Derek's hand clasped around Liam's biceps, yanking him up from his seat none too gently.

"Alright, that's it," the Alpha snarled, "Liam and I need to have a little chat."

"Derek!"

But Derek ignored Stiles' protest, keeping his furious eyes on Liam, "Come on." He turned around and stormed to their bedroom, fully expecting the boy to follow.

Stiles could practically hear Liam's stomach drop. (His own was not faring much better.) The kid certainly looked proper nervous and already quite regretful, but he didn't turn to Stiles for help and with a shaky breath trailed after the Alpha, closing the door behind him.

Stiles couldn't sit still. He knew that Derek took the boy away to provide them some privacy, and he shouldn't be invading it by eavesdropping, but Stiles was freaking out so badly he couldn't help it. Derek could be harsh and the last thing he wanted, was for Liam to suffer additional trauma from people he was supposed to be trusting.

He tiptoed to the door carefully and pressed his ear against it. The only thing he could hear was hushed voices, which was a good sign because it meant they were having a calm conversation and Derek wasn't skinning the kid alive.

Ignoring the little voice in the back of his head telling him to walk away, Stiles dropped to his knees to peek through the keyhole. He saw Derek pacing around the room, while Liam just sat on the bed, his shoulders hunched and his gaze firmly on his lap. This went on for a couple of minutes, then Derek must have asked something because the boy looked up, his face a mixture of trepidation and remorse, he nodded unhappily and got up.

Stiles felt all his insides squeeze with apprehension, resisting a strong urge to just barge in and save the kid. But Derek promised him that Liam will be fine and he wanted to trust his husband. The next thing he saw was Derek enveloping the teen in a bear hug and Liam's shoulders shaking in a sign of silent crying.

There was something so incredibly endearing about it, that Stiles couldn't force himself to stop looking. Derek could be harsh, but he could also be caring and tender and Stiles realized that he needed no further confirmation. He tiptoed back to the sofa and put on the TV.

Liam emerged 10 minutes later, no longer crying, but eyes still a bit red-rimmed. His hand stealthily rubbed his butt, indicating that he likely got some 'tough love' as well after all.

"Hey," Stiles cast him a soft reassuring smile.

"Hey."

Stiles experienced the feeling of déjà vu. Again they were at odds, again Derek intervened and again Liam looked like an adorable puppy one couldn't possibly stay mad at.

"You ok?"

"I'm sorry I was such a douche."

"No kiddo, you were no such thing. Come here."

Liam didn't have to be told twice, he practically melted into Stiles' hug.

"Yes, I was."

"Ok, you were. But it's water under the bridge now. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, you were right, his bark is worse than his bite. It didn't even hurt."

Stiles snorted. "Hurts _me_ plenty."

"Well, I'm an Alpha."

"No, you're not."

"Well, definitely more than you are."

_Brat. _Stiles ruffled kid's hair fondly, glad to have the boy back to his usual cheeky self. "Where's Derek?"

"Dunno, I assume he is giving me time to apologize, without looming over my head and making it look like he forced me."

"You are a good kid Liam, I know nobody would have to force you to apologize. What would you like for dinner?"

"I don't know."

Stiles didn't miss the guilty look his praise produced. The kid definitely knew what he wanted for dinner, he just didn't feel like he deserved to be the one choosing. Not that it was hard to guess. "How about pizza?"

"Wouldn't that be like rewarding misbehavior?" When Stiles gave him an incredulous look, he explained, "I saw all those parenting books on Derek's bedside table."

Stiles chuckled, he noticed those too. "Well, I don't care what the books say. I feel like eating pizza tonight."

Liam cast him a grateful smile.

"Though you might want to not mention those books to Derek. Just as uhm... survival precaution."

* * *

_TBC_

_I'm playing with an idea of making the next chapter in Derek's POV and write "Stiles in trouble" since there have been multiple requests for that;)_


	19. A change of perspective

_Author's note: So here's the annotated Derek POV chapter. It's going to be a one-off but it was a lot of fun to write. _

_Warning for medical inaccuracies (= I make some stuff up and ask you to suspend your disbelief)_

* * *

**DEREK POV**

Stiles kept fussing over Liam all day. When the pizza order came in with all Liam's favorite toppings, Derek just rolled his eyes, but when it was followed by a hoard of chocolate ice cream and a marathon of Naruto, he couldn't resist the feeling of fond amusement. Stiles was gonna be such a helicopter parent one day. Derek could picture him spoiling their kids rotten. Uhm, his kids. Did I say 'their'? I meant 'his', of course!

"You didn't have to go full mother hen on Liam," he told Stiles, when they finally got to bed that day, "I wasn't that hard on the kid."

"I know."

"You do?" Derek raised an eyebrow. The way Stiles acted all evening one would think the boy was tortured within an inch of his life and then some.

"Yeah, Liam said you spank like an Omega chick."

_Huh?_

"Oh really? Perhaps I should practice on you more often then." Derek pounced on top of Stiles and pinned his wrists above his head. He loved how Stiles always struggled against his grip. Not because he didn't want to be restrained, but because he got off knowing that he couldn't break free unless Derek let him. "Though I might consider going easy on you if you tell the truth," he purred against his ear. He knew full well Stiles was eavesdropping, but he let it go knowing how much Stiles was worrying.

"Ok, I might have been listening behind the door. I know, I know, don't give me that look, I was freaking out. I'm not even sure who got more traumatized by that punishment."

"I'm fine," Derek said.

Stiles gave him a scandalized look, "I meant myself!"

"You poor thing," Derek cooed, softening the sarcasm by kissing his neck and enjoying the shivers it produced. "I guess I'll just have to take your mind off of this _traumatizing_ event."

"Please do."

And Derek did.

And then one more time just to be sure.

...

The hushed giggling voices woke Derek up at night. He checked the clock and frowned. It was almost 3 AM and certainly not the time for social gatherings on a school night. School night? God, he sounded like mom.

Derek's chest squeezed with hurt like it always did whenever something reminded him of his family. Two years might have dulled the pain, but it was still hard to deal with sometimes. Especially this time of the year.

One thing got better though. The hollow empty feeling wasn't as prominent anymore. Who would have thought that those two troublemakers (and a cat) could fill in the void and give Derek something else to care about, other than his lust for vengeance.

Oh whatever, he could totally bust their party and send them to bed, but why ruin the fun? Derek has had enough of being the bad guy for one day. If they fall asleep in class tomorrow, well that's on them.

...

In the morning Derek forgot all about it and jumped straight into the shower. He had a board meeting first thing in the morning. Gah, he hated those. Instead of doing something productive, he will have to run around in suit and tie, justifying his decisions to a bunch of clueless investors.

He was quickly reminded of the nightly meeting when the green stream of sticky water hit him square in the face. The accompanying fruity smell of Kool-aid might have been nice, but the overall experience was still very subpar for a refreshing shower. A growl ripped through his throat and the subsequent giggles coming from the hallway only increased the annoyance. His first instinct was to unscrew the showerhead and shove it up somebody's ass, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and step out of the shower without damaging anything in the process. Fucking kids!

The green dye was dripping on the towel he wrapped around his hips, but Derek didn't care. Of course, he could have cleaned the showerhead himself and then take a normal shower, but that would let the transgressors get away with it.

"Hulk, is that you?" Stiles called, bending in half from laughter. Liam was restraining himself a little better, covering his mouth with both hands, though his eyes were giving him away.

Derek tried to unclench his jaw. And his fists. And most of the muscles. "Hilarious. Fix the mess in the shower before I go _SMASH_ on you both," he growled unamused. "Aren't you a bit old for such childish pranks?"

"That was my thought exactly!" Stiles exclaimed. "But then I saw your face…"

Derek felt the familiar twitching in his palm as he narrowed his eyes at the brat. Thankfully, Liam pushed Stiles inside the bathroom and away from Derek's reach before he had the time to act on his urges.

After finally taking a normal shower, Derek retreated back to the room to put on his "I know what I'm doing" persona, also known as "the big bad boss attire", in other words - suit and tie.

As he stood in front of the mirror tying his tie, his mind immediately traveled to the times when his dad did it for him. When the future of the company didn't weigh on his shoulders and all he had to worry about were grades and pretty Omegas. He closed his eyes letting the memory wash over him.

The sound of laughter coming from the kitchen brought him back to the present. Derek smiled at the domesticity of it. His normally grim and lonely apartment was now filled with cheerful voices and laughter. Derek felt… content? At ease? Happy? He thought he would never experience that feeling again.

Alright, that might have been a bit premature. Derek longed to finally get his hands on coffee and some breakfast, so after fixing his business look he quickly jumped into the bathroom to finish it off with his hair. A couple efficient swipes of the hair gel and he was done.

"You gotta be fucking KIDDING ME!" he yelled when he looked at his hands and they were… you guessed it - green. And _sparkly!_ Just like his hair... And of course, he already managed to smudge his white shirt with it. _I'm gonna fucking kill them! _Furious he charged into the kitchen only to be met with another burst of laughter.

"Oh, is it Christmas already?" Stiles cackled, "Cause I kinda want to put presents under you."

"_O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches_," Liam sang in between giggles.

"You think this is funny?! Look at my shirt!" Derek snarled, far from the festive mood, "I'm gonna be late for the board meeting because of your stupid joke!"

"I thought it's _your_ company," Stiles replied, unconcerned. "Besides, this look certainly becomes you. It's very, uhm.. "

"Fashionable!" Liam suggested.

"Yeah fashionable! You look like Billie Eilish!"

"_So you're a tough guy, like it really rough guy, just can't get enough guy…_" Liam sang again.

But Derek actually _has_ had enough. "You little shits, I'll show you 'tough guy'! Stiles, that corner, Liam this one," he barked, hand pointing to the respective corners. "If I hear as much as a peep…"

"But who is gonna make breakfast then?" Stiles argued, completely unbothered about the looming threat.

"Well, thanks to you I don't have any time for breakfast anyway!" Derek snapped. "If I come back and don't see you with your noses in the corner, I'll make sure you won't sit down for a week!" He didn't wait long enough to see if he was obeyed and ran back to the shower to get the sparkly green mess out of his hair.

When he got back to the bedroom to change into a new shirt, Stiles was sitting on the bed with a mug of coffee and a sandwich in his hand. "Don't be mad," he said before Derek had the chance to start acting on his threat. "Here, eat something before you go."

Derek silently accepted the sandwich and the coffee, his irritation somewhat mollified by Stiles's consideration.

"We didn't mean to cause too much trouble, just to re-establish the status quo."

"And by status quo you mean the two of you being the insufferable brats that make my life harder?"

"I think the word you were looking for is 'better' or 'brighter'," Stiles replied cheekily. "You were worrying about Liam, I thought this would show that he doesn't hold a grudge."

"I never expected Liam to hold a grudge, to begin with! And _you _were worrying about him, not me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Stiles threw his own phrase at him.

"Well, it would certainly _help_ if your giggling at 3 in the morning wasn't so damn loud!"

Stiles actually looked guilty after that. Finally, some remorse! "Alright, alright. Stop grumbling, I'll make it up to you," he wrapped his hands around Derek hugging him from behind.

Derek felt the remnants of irritation evaporate into the ether. He just hoped the Beta will never learn about the effect he was having on him, otherwise, the brat will play him like a fiddle. "You better," he groused, tying his tie for a second time today. "You should invite your dad for dinner."

The hands let go of him so that the head could peak from behind his shoulder. "O-kaay? Where is this coming from?" Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Your dad invited us for burgers, remember, and we never went. You haven't seen him for a while, I'm sure he misses you. Besides, we should tell him that we are together now."

_And you should never take your family for granted, _he added silently.

"Ok, sure." Stiles looked surprised, probably wondering what suddenly brought this on, but didn't ask again. Derek didn't feel the need to explain himself as he gave a couple of finishing tugs to perfect the tie knot, the feeling of nostalgia hitting anew.

It wasn't much of a surprise that Liam wasn't in the corner either. The boy probably figured that if Stiles got away with it, then he would too. Though he was definitely a bit more nervous than Stiles was.

"You two got lucky this time," Derek growled pointing a finger at the two culprits. "Next time I won't be so forgiving."

"Aren't you late? Just go already," Stiles waved him off as if he was a pest.

Derek tilted his head, pondering whether he had time for some additional ass-kicking, but figured that setting the brat straight was not worth further delay. As he closed the door he could hear them bursting into singing "O Christmas tree" again.

"You are both GROUNDED! FOREVER!" Derek yelled from the elevator, fighting his face from breaking into a smile. And losing.

* * *

xxx

Stiles seemed nervous about his dad coming over. They agreed that they won't be involving the Sheriff in the investigation for now, though each had a different reason for it. Stiles was fretting about his dad finding out about his reckless gun-waving and Derek expected to be chewed out for putting Stiles in danger. Or worse. His dad could contact BRP and demand Stiles got a different RA, because Derek posed danger for his son. And Derek wouldn't really blame him if he did.

Stiles made lasagna and a vegetable salad for dinner, and it was surprisingly edible. Mr. Stilinski greeted Derek without a trace of the previous animosity, which suggested that Stiles already informed him about the shift in their relationship. He did get a quizzing look when the Sheriff noticed the bullet holes in the wall, but Derek ignored it, diverting his attention elsewhere.

The conversation flowed easily, with Stiles prattling about his exams, and his dad sharing curious and often embarrassing stories from his childhood. Though Stiles was a good sport about it, laughing it off with the rest of them. There was an awkward moment when Mr. Stilinski asked how his MRI last week went, and Stiles lied that it was fine and quickly changed the topic. Derek raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles just subtly shook his head.

Liam never showed up, using some lame excuse about studying, though Derek had a feeling it had something to do with the fact that Stiles's dad worked in law enforcement. Either way, they didn't press the kid.

When the Sheriff left, the table was cleared and all the dishes were washed, Stiles quickly excused himself to the shower to avoid the pending conversation, but Derek was not having it.

"Not so fast, Stilinski. There's an elephant in the room that needs addressing. What was that about the medical exam that you supposedly went to last week?"

"It's the FTD testing. The blood test and MRI that I'm supposed to go for every 2 years to keep track of the mutation that caused mom's illness."

"And why didn't you go?"

"I had exams."

_Avoiding eye contact, elevated heart rate = an obvious lie._

"So you rescheduled?"

"Uhm…"

_Lie to me again, I dare you._

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause it's unnecessary."

Derek felt a surge of irritation over Stiles' dismissive tone. He didn't know much about FTD, but what he knew was enough to produce a queasy feeling in his stomach.

"Your father doesn't seem to share that opinion," he replied, forcing his voice to remain calm. "Why is that?"

"I'm an adult and this is my life, he doesn't have a say in this."

Here it was. The defiance that on a good day amused Derek and on a bad one drove him absolutely crazy. It was the biggest difference between dating a submissive Omega and a know-it-all Beta.

"I'm your boyfriend and your Responsible Alpha, do _I_ have a say in this?"

"See, that's exactly the reason I didn't tell you!"

"So you admit you have been lying to me. Good, I'm glad we are on the same page."

Stiles pulled a face, clearly annoyed at getting cornered like this. "Derek, that's..."

But Derek didn't let him finish, "Now, tell me why you are avoiding the testing," he said sternly.

"Why do you think?! I don't want to find out that I have it!" Stiles retorted, "And I hate needles."

"Fair enough. If they find that your blood developed that mutation, what happens next?"

"Well, nothing really." Stiles scratched the back of his head somewhat awkwardly. "I mean, I'll have to take some pills for the rest of my life to prevent it from developing or at least slow it down."

"And if you don't take the drugs?"

"Then it will probably progress faster."

"So let me get this straight…" Stiles' grimace told him that his husband was well aware of the trap he just set up for himself. "You are afraid to know, even though catching it in time could prevent it from developing, allowing you to lead a normal life. Oh, and you are afraid of needles."

"It sounds stupid when you put it this way."

"Because it is. As well as highly irresponsible."

"Fine, I'll schedule a visit."

"Good." Derek pushed the chair away from the table and beckoned Stiles with his hand, "Now come here."

"Why?" The way his voice went up an octave suggested that he knew exactly why.

Derek just gave him a pointed look and patted his knee.

Rosy color crept up on Stiles's cheeks, as he shook his head in protest. "No, Derek. I said I'll go."

"Yes, you will. But right now you are going over my knee." Derek watched Stiles swallow nervously, his eyes flicking to the door, probably contemplating if it was worth a try. "It will be worse if I have to chase you," Derek said sternly.

"But… you _can't_."

"Let's put that theory to the test, shall we?"

"No, I mean.. I thought…."

"You thought that now that we are together I won't discipline you?" Derek offered helpfully. "You lied to me, Stiles. Repeatedly. That alone would be enough. And the fact that you did it so that you could hazard with your life, makes it all the worse."

"I wasn't hazarding! Every two years is just a recommendation. Not to mention that statistically, this type of FTD is familial in less than 20% of the cases. You are making it sound as if I was to die tomorrow."

"You understand all that, and yet you childishly avoid it and lie to your dad and to me about it."

"I didn't _lie_ to you, I just didn't tell you…"

"You really wanna go with that?" Derek waited for Stiles to drop his gaze guiltily. "Now give me at least one good reason, why you shouldn't be punished. And '_I don't want to be spanked'_ is not one." To be honest, Derek would love to forget the whole discipline agenda and proceed in a more pleasurable direction (he was pretty sure that Stiles would be down for some kinky impact play), but he doubted Stiles had a legit excuse for his behavior.

The way Stiles bit his lip, his face a perfect picture of contrition, proved as much. He looked so cute Derek had a hard time keeping his resolve. His primal instincts were telling him to provide his distressed mate with hugs and cuddles, but he knew that something else needed to be done first.

"I'm sorry," Stiles muttered, sending him a pleading look. And damn if it didn't kill the remnants of Derek's anger. He knew he was still gonna follow through because it was the right thing to do. But it would have been easier if Stiles kept the defiant know-it-all attitude.

"You are going to be. Now stop trying to soften me up with those sad puppy-eyed looks and get your ass over here," he barked more sternly than he intended.

Stiles sighed and dragged his feet over, his hands hovering over the button of his trousers, as he cast Derek another pleading look.

Damn, the kid was not making it easy. "Stop stalling, you know the drill."

"Ok, but not too hard?"

Derek couldn't help chuckling at the ridiculous directive. "You have been spanked before, what's with all the fussing?"

"I'm not fussing! It's just..."

"You'll survive, I promise." Derek didn't wait for compliance. He pulled Stiles's trousers down himself and draped the younger man over his knees.

"As long as you are not mad at me anymore," Stiles muttered, wrapping his hands around Derek's thigh.

Derek lowered his hand mid-air in frustration. He couldn't even spank the kid, what with all the guilt-tripping. As if Derek ever punished him just to vent out his anger! Well... that one time… _Fuck, how long is he gonna make me feel bad about it? _

"I'm not _mad_. But I'm certainly disappointed and not a little _hurt_ that you kept this from me." _Ha, I can guilt trip you too, you miserable brat._

Derek was usually not one to play the victim card, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction Stiles's lack of comeback produced. It was easy to quarrel about actions and consequences, but it was impossible to argue with somebody's feelings getting hurt.

"I'm sorry," Stiles repeated, hugging his thigh tighter.

Derek took it as a signal to get on with the punishment, but instead of pulling down Stiles' boxers, his hand deviated to pet his head. "It's going to be ok. I'll go with you," he said softly, his fingers brushing through Stiles's hair. Then he realized what he was doing and shook his head, bewildered at his own behavior. There he was, providing comfort before his hand even landed a single smack. Seriously, what was wrong with him?

He cleared his throat, silently berating himself to pull his shit together and get it over with. He quickly bared his target and fought the completely inappropriate surge of arousal. He will pound that delicious ass later, but right now he had to punish it. Adjusting his mindset he brought his palm down sharply, watching the pink handprint appear on pale flesh. The following whimper confirmed that it was 'well' received.

Derek didn't bother starting slow or gentle, this was discipline and the swats came down hard and fast. Of course, by his own standards, this would be a laughably mild punishment but Derek learned that with Stiles it was more than enough to get the point across.

All too soon Stiles's whimpers turned into pitiful teary sniffles tugging at his heart. Counter to Stiles's numerous claims about Derek's sadism, he didn't enjoy seeing his mate hurt and upset. Derek longed to cradle the boy in his arms and kiss away all those tears, but Stiles clearly needed an emotional release, so Derek kept going till Stiles's butt was a lovely shade of red and his sniffles progressed into full-fledged sobbing.

Finally, he let his hand rest on the small of Stiles's back and then patted the hot cheeks gently to signal that they were done. Stiles didn't seem in a hurry to get up even though the position was hardly comfortable. He rubbed at his face, fruitlessly trying to stop the tears.

"It's over, baby, I got you," Derek said quietly, petting the crying Beta. He lifted Stiles by the shoulders and rearranged him to sit on his lap, keeping the tender part of his bottom between his legs. Now that it was finally time for the comfort, Derek didn't hold back. He held him tight, petted his head, and stroke his back, all the while whispering soft reassurances and '_good boys' _in between kisses.

With all the affectionate attention Stiles calmed down almost instantly and relaxed in Derek's embrace, his breath still hitching on occasion.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said after a couple minutes, "I knew you'd force me to go and I just… I mean I _would_ go anyway, at some point."

"That some point better be next week, or you are getting another spanking."

"But what if they don't have availability for the next week? You can't spank me if they don't have a spot!"

"Wanna bet?"

Even though Derek smirked, Stiles was apparently still too vulnerable to pick up on the teasing tone. His eyes glistened with fresh tears as he turned his face away.

"Hey, I wasn't serious," Derek said softly, lifting Stiles's chin and wiping the tears with his thumb. "Come now, none of that. Let's get you to bed. I'll rub some soothing lotion on that naughty butt of yours and then fuck it into tomorrow."

"Not sure I'm in the mood," Stiles replied sulkily.

"That's fine. With a bit of luck, you might be by the time I'm done."

That won him an amused snort. "Derek. That's rape."

Derek furrowed his brows comically. "Wait what? I thought it's not rape if we are _both_ crying?"

Stiles slapped his shoulder, though it was softened by the sound of his laughter. "You are the worst."

"So I've been told." Derek scooped Stiles to carry him to the bedroom. "Apparently I'm a rare Alphahole."

Stiles wrapped his hands around Derek's neck, smiling fondly back at him. "_My_ rare Alphahole."

* * *

xxx

Stiles did manage to reschedule relatively fast and true to his word, Derek went with him to "hold his hand and kiss his boo-boos". When he said that he was just being a sarcastic dick, he didn't expect Stiles to actually freak out quite as much over blood drawing.

The Beta was pale as a ghost and visibly trembling as they sat in the waiting room. He was quiet, but Derek would be probably able to smell his anxiety all the way from the parking lot. Stiles was nothing of the sort during the MRI, so Derek figured that he must have had an actual phobia to have such a strong reaction to the upcoming relatively harmless procedure.

When Derek's hand on Stiles's knee did nothing to calm him down, he knew he had to up his game. He walked behind him and put both hands on Stiles's shoulders, applying pressure to ground him.

"Breathe," he commanded, his voice quiet but firm. "In and out."

Stiles obeyed on instinct, taking deep measured breaths, and Derek could hear his heart rate slowing down. He massaged his shoulders, thumbs digging into the pressure points to further relieve tension, and Stiles actually drifted for a bit, till his name was called.

The nurse frowned at Derek, suggesting that he should wait, but Derek had no intention of letting Stiles go alone, so he turned on his Alpha charm, claiming he was the moral support, and strolled past her inside. Once the door closed behind them he immediately took charge, sitting Stiles down and quickly explaining that he had a needle phobia.

The nurse nodded in understanding and gave Stiles a reassuring smile. "Don't worry sweetheart, we have patients like you all the time. I'll make it as quick and as painless as possible. Lie down here and relax."

Derek sat on the other side from the nurse, forcing Stiles to look at him and holding his hand as promised. He talked to him throughout the blood drawing and even though Stiles was clearly only half paying attention, he didn't look like he was gonna bolt or pass out.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" the nurse cooed, giving him a small bar of chocolate. The cartoonish wrapping indicated that it was mostly given to children, and Stiles blushed, looking quite embarrassed now that it was over.

"Where's mine?" Derek asked with mock sulkiness and the nurse gracefully gave him one as well, which he immediately stuffed in his mouth, waiting for Stiles to follow his example.

The nurse then told them that the results will be emailed to Stiles in two days and reminded him to show up again in two years. She didn't add "or sooner", which was kind of a given shall the blood test reveal the mutation.

"Well, the hard part is over," Stiles said as they reached the car. "Thanks for going with me."

Derek just nodded curtly, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach suggested that the hard part was definitely yet to come.

...

The queasy feeling followed Derek around all day and the next day it didn't get any better. It was funny, that he was all calm and collected when Stiles was ready to jump out of his skin, and now he had a hard time concentrating on pretty much anything, while Stiles looked carefree and unconcerned.

It made sense since Stiles lived with the possibility of developing a nasty mutation for years and Derek only now entertained all the gruesome scenarios for the first time. The google search didn't help in the slightest. If anything it only spiked his anxiety.

They didn't talk about it, because there was nothing to discuss really. Derek knew that the statistical probability was on their side, but it was hard to keep being rational when your heart was pounding in your ears. Though he made damn sure not to let it show and be the Alpha Stiles needed him to be.

The sound of an incoming email on Stiles's phone triggered a moment of breathless silence. Stiles's fingers hovered over the mail icon uncomfortably long. Derek didn't rush him, he simply extended his palm and Stiles immediately passed the duty over to him placing the phone in his hand.

"Negative," Derek said on exhale, the overwhelming relief making him feel lightheaded for a second.

Stiles rolled his eyes, grinning. "See. Told you, waste of time."

Derek ignored the cheek, wrapping his hands around him in a crushing hug.

"You don't have to… Really, I'm fine, I'm fine," Stiles protested, squirming in his embrace.

"It's not all about _you_, Stilinski, stop being so fucking selfish."

There was a pause as Stiles dissected that answer and then fired up his inner brat, "Awww. Were you wooorried about me, Mr. Hale?" he drawled teasingly.

Derek didn't bother confirming nor denying it and stuck to a simple, "Shut up."

* * *

_TBC_

_So that turned out way fluffier than I intended… I hope you guys didn't cringe. (I mean, I didn't but I'm kinda biased, so let me know if you did). _

_The FTD plotline came out of nowhere so I did add a small mention about the test into one of the previous chapters. Either way, I'm not going in that direction, this was just a minor deviation from the main plot. Stiles is not sick, he is not going to get sick and all will be peachy in that department._

_I already mentioned it, but I feel the need to repeat - Frontotemporal dementia doesn't exactly work this way, but for the sake of the narrative let's pretend that that particular mutation does._

_I hope you guys enjoyed the brief venture into Derek's mind. Now we are going back to Stiles POV and moving on with the story=)_

_Ruby: _"Derek reminding Stiles that spankings are not always for punishment" - _I actually had something like this planned for the next chapter._


	20. Playing

_Author's note: Uhm... more porn incoming;))_

* * *

Stiles was woken by a barrage of kisses on his shoulder and something hard poking him in the butt. His own case of morning wood was flagging under the comforter, so yeah - _sign me up, morning sex._ They rarely indulged during the week, holding on to every extra minute they could spend sleeping (especially since Derek was still anal about the morning jogs). But on the weekend it was a common occurrence to spend the whole morning in bed.

"Please tell me there's coffee," Stiles rasped sleepily, trying to open one eye.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hit his nose and he sighed with content as Derek handed him the cup. Coffee countered morning breath which meant that he didn't have to get up and brush his teeth right that instant to make out.

Derek only let him have a couple sips before taking the cup from his hands and placing it on the bedside table. Stiles reached out to cup his face and plant a kiss, but his hand was caught midair and he was firmly face planted back on the pillow.

"Hmm," he hummed, stifling a giggle. No touchy-feely today. Derek was in a rough mood, which Stiles always found sexy as hell. He liked him tender and affectionate too, but when it came to sex, there was nothing more arousing than an Alpha acting his part and taking what's his.

The metal clicking sound caught his attention and he realized that his hand had been cuffed to the bedpost. _Well, hello kinky._

"What are you doing?" Stiles tried to keep his voice nonchalant as if he was being tied to the bed on a daily basis, though the slight quiver probably gave away his excitement.

Derek didn't even spare him a glance. "Experimenting," he said, looking all business-like as he cuffed Stiles's left hand to the other side and moved down to his legs.

Being tied spread eagle was not uncomfortable, the leather cuffs were soft and he wasn't stretched by any means. But it did make him feel vulnerable and exposed even though he was still clothed in his boxers and t-shirt. His cock was twitching with indecision, unsure whether he liked the loss of freedom, or needed more friction to start liking it properly. But Stiles refused to hump the bed like a rutting dog, cause a) - his self-control was better than that; and b) - Derek wouldn't let him live that down.

All bets were off when Stiles looked over his shoulder and saw Derek holding a black leather flogger. "Okaaaay," he drawled, his throat suddenly going dry. "Should I be worried?"

Derek eyed him head to toe, then returned his focus to the flogger and gave a couple of test swings in the air. "Yeah, you probably should," he said, smirking.

Fear mixed with excitement and shot straight to Stiles's cock. "Great. That's reassuring." He felt a bit out of breath, but refused to appear anything but fully confident in front of the Alphahole. "Shouldn't I get a safeword or something?"

Derek smiled, cracking the flogger against his hand. "Why? You think you already need one?" The soft sound was actually reassuring, even though the gesture was probably meant to further unnerve him.

"You have the sadist face on, I _definitely_ need one!"

"Ok, your safeword is '_Thank you, Master, may I have another'._"

Stiles rolled his eyes recognizing his own line. "Hilarious."

"I knew you'd like it."

"_Derek!_"

"I don't care. Use the usual."

_What usual? We never played before! _"You mean the stoplights?"

"Yes."

Stiles snorted. "How boringly conventional." Which earned him his first strike of the flogger landing square on his bottom. He yelped more from surprise than pain, because it didn't really hurt or even sting. He let out a nervous giggle and quickly caught himself, cause that was definitely not the correct reaction to being flogged. "Uhm, so you've done this before?"

"I watched some videos."

_Oh my fucking God._

"Learning from porn. Awesome. What could possibly go wrong!" It came out more sarcastic than he intended and he was rewarded with Derek yanking down his boxers to mid thighs. Because _obviously_, with his legs apart they wouldn't go any lower. "The tutorial didn't mention undressing before tying up?"

"No. But it did say that if I have a mouthy little shit for a sub, I can cut his boxers out with scissors and use them as a gag."

Was that a threat? Yeah, that was definitely a threat. Stiles was generally not against gags… maybe… he wasn't sure. But he definitely didn't want to chew on his underwear.

"How will I use my safeword then?"

"I guess you won't."

Stiles let out another snort. "What happened to 'Safe, Sane, and Consensual'?"

Derek waved his hand dismissively. "Porn doesn't focus on _that._"

That was true. But at the same time, it meant that Derek was at least familiar with the concept, even if his whole demeanor suggested otherwise. But that was Derek, he enjoyed being a dick. And truth be told, Stiles kinda enjoyed it too.

"So… uh, what are you gonna do to me?" he tested the waters.

"Whatever I want."

Ok. That was _hot_… and scary. A shiver of anticipation ran through Stiles. "Oh, God."

"Thanks, but '_Sir'_ will suffice for now."

"Not '_Daddy_'?"

"Not today."

_Huh. That's not a 'no'. _

Derek paced behind him and then let out a tsking sound. Stiles heard him leaving the room and returning a minute later. He wasn't surprised to see scissors in his hands. It was actually kinda funny. Stiles would bet that Derek simply forgot to undress him and now didn't want to roll back to do that, pretending that cutting Stiles out of his clothes was his game plan all along.

"I hope you don't have any emotional attachment to these," the Alpha said, pressing the cold metal of scissors against his thigh.

"They are my favorite!" (No, they're not.)

Derek started cutting them off anyway. "Too bad."

"You owe me new ones!" Stiles complained, even though his cock was weirdly enjoying the procedure. Derek ignored his demands and moved on to cut off his t-shirt. Stiles actually did like that one, it was nice and soft, but he didn't care enough to stop Derek from his conquest.

"Ready?"

Stiles knew the correct response to that. He could go with 'Yes, Sir' and be a good boy or he could say 'Yeah' and force Derek to correct him, or he could go full brat and say something sarcastic that would earn him a punishment. And maybe he would want to go that route if he wasn't suddenly so apprehensive.

Was he even ready? Not really. Naked and bound at Derek's mercy, his confidence flew out the window. Not to mention that the complete lack of negotiation was a red flag in every guide book out there. Stiles was not particularly savvy in BDSM etiquette, his knowledge limited by porn and fiction, but he knew that communication was key, and the fact that Derek didn't intend to share his agenda was definitely worrisome.

Stiles's hesitation must have been telling, because suddenly Derek was by his side all warm and gentle kissing his cheek, hand brushing through his hair. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?" he whispered.

Of course, Stiles knew that, but he melted into a pile of goo anyway. "I do. But like... talk to me, ok?"

Derek smiled and kissed his nose, which Stiles shouldn't have found as adorable as he did. "Ok, baby. I will start slow. It shouldn't hurt though."

"Ok."

"Yes, _Sir_," Derek corrected him, snapping the flogger against his ass. And yes, it didn't hurt. The tails bit into his flesh but the sensation was warming and not unpleasant.

"Yes, Sir," Stiles parroted grinning.

Derek gave him another three strikes of the same intensity. "How was that?"

"Good actually. I mean you could probably go harder," Stiles said and then remembered and added, "Sir."

"Good boy."

Stiles preened at the praise, a goofy smile plastered on his face. Ok so maybe he had a bit of a praise kink. Sue him.

Derek continued landing measured blows to his ass, and even though they got progressively harder, getting further into the muscle tissue, it wasn't painful. The pleasant warming sensation was somewhat similar to a thorough massage. Stiles completely relaxed on the bed quite enjoying his flogging. It always looked way more hardcore in porn.

"You good?"

"Hmm," Stiles hummed in content. "I thought it would.. Uhm.. hurt?"

"It can. This one is very soft, but I can get it to bite more. Wanna try?"

"Yeah. Uhm, _Please, Sir_." He was fishing for another 'good boy' but was rewarded with a sharp burning strike instead. Ok, so if Derek put his arm into it, it could actually sting. Stiles let out a surprised yelp, hands tugging at his restraints, but the burn quickly turned to a pleasant heat that resonated with his cock.

Derek didn't check with him and instead landed two more equally sharp blows and then kneaded his cheeks, hand sneaking under him to cup his erection (which was flagging at full attention).

"Look at the little pain slut," Derek purred, visibly pleased with Stiles's state of arousal.

'Pain slut' couldn't be further from the truth, since Stiles's pain tolerance was crappy at best, and the flogger stung, but like… in a nice way?

"Mhm," Stiles hummed noncommittally, hips twisting into Derek's hand to increase friction. But of course, no such luck. Derek took his hand away with a tsking sound and resumed the flogging, switching around nice warm strikes with sharp burning ones.

Stiles gasped and mewled, hands and legs tugging at the restraints and hips bucking into the comforter to cope with the harder blows. He must have been giving Derek quite a show, but that was the point right? Not like Stiles ever watched the videos with subs taking it without a sound, so he didn't try to restrain himself either.

Finally, Derek put the flogger away and rubbed his hot cheeks appreciatively. "Beautiful."

Stiles groaned, wishing Derek would stroke his neglected cock that has been leaking precum for the past 5 minutes. "_Please_."

"Please what, pet?"

"Touch me." Stiles gave him the sweetest look he could muster but got a gleeful sadistic smirk in response.

"You mean, here?" Derek asked, stroking his length for an unbearably short time before taking his hand away again. "Or here?" he spread Stiles's cheeks and prodded him with his finger, making him gasp at the sudden (and might I say - dry) intrusion.

"Yes."

Derek bit back a short laugh. "I see." His finger returned to Stiles's entrance, this time properly lubed. Stiles moaned into the bedsheet as the finger brushed over his prostate. By now Derek knew exactly how Stiles liked to be prepped, his do's and don'ts, his tells, his endurance, etc. If he did something that Stiles disliked, more often than not it was on purpose.

So when Derek proceeded to stretch him avoiding the sweet spot time and time again, Stiles knew it was deliberate.

"Come on," he groaned frustrated. The fingers left him and he felt something cold pressing against his entrance. A butt plug? They never played with plugs before and Stiles wasn't sure where he stood with them. The stretch was only slightly uncomfortable, the feeling of fullness was a bit weird due to lack of the usual friction. He didn't hate it per se, but it didn't provide him the stimulation he craved.

"How is it?"

"Frustrating."

"Oh my poor horny baby," Derek teased, palming his cock again and stroking him a couple times and Stiles kinda hated him at the moment.

"Fuck y- Oh what the FUCK!" he jerked himself at the sudden vibration that went through his body. He went from not enough stimulation to overstimulation which was arguably way worse. The plug apparently came with a remote control, which Derek was holding in his hand with a vicious smirk on his face. Sadist!

"This thing has a couple settings, let's go through them."

Alright, not all settings were too much, some were just right, but of course, Derek being a major dick, he went to the most hardcore one and stayed there flipping it on and off randomly as he took the flogger again.

"I'll try your back now."

"Huh?" Stiles was kinda distracted. "Oh yeah, ok." The sudden jolt against his prostate sent his hips bucking and he quickly corrected his response. "Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir!"

"Try to relax."

"Turn it OFF!" Stiles yelled back.

"Oh right," Derek feigned innocence as he turned the torture device off again. Stiles grunted with relief marveling at the fact that his dick was still very much interested in the proceedings. Flogger on his back was nice and felt like a massage. Derek would still occasionally strike his ass, and put on the vibrator, though he went down to the "nice" setting that wasn't driving Stiles crazy. Or at least not too crazy because a few minutes in, Stiles was totally humping the bedsheets, his dignity long forgotten as he chased his release.

"Wanna come baby?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes, Sir. Please!"

"Now, or with me inside you?"

"I ugh…" Stiles wasn't sure how long he would last.

"I'll take you regardless. Just like this, bound and helpless, and I don't care if you are gonna enjoy yourself or not."

Stiles almost came just from that speech alone. Why would he find the idea of being used for sex (instead of participating in it) arousing, he didn't know. But he did. "Ok." Stiles wasn't sure what exactly he was agreeing to, but his brain was getting kinda mushy from all the stimulation. Basically he just wanted to come. _Needed_ to come!

"Ok, what?"

"Ok, Sir."

Derek laughed and Stiles realized that he wasn't actually correcting the title. The plug pulled against the rim stretching him anew and then left his body, making him groan at the sudden emptiness. But the feeling didn't last, because the plug was soon replaced with something real and warm and familiar and bigger - ouch bigger!

Stiles whined at the pain, so Derek pulled out again and instead reached out to palm his erection.

"I oh.."

"It's alright, come for me, baby," he purred, stroking Stiles into completion.

The orgasm was definitely one of the strongest Stiles have experienced. He was on the verge for so long that as soon as Derek touched him he fell apart. They have never really practiced edging and this was as close as they ever came to that. It was intense and he loved it.

"Beautiful," Derek murmured, "So good for me." He planted a couple of chaste kisses on Stiles' neck and shoulders, while Stiles recovered from his la petite mort.

"'S good," he slurped blissfully.

"Hmm. We are not done though."

_Oh Right. Derek didn't come yet, and he said he'll - ow Ow OW!_

Derek was not brutal with his entry but the stretch was far from painless. Stiles winced, gritting his teeth through the worst of it, as his body adjusted to accommodate his size. So perhaps being used for sex was not as wonderful as it seemed 5 minutes ago. Now that the afterglow of his orgasm has faded, having a huge-ass dick inside him was not actually all that pleasant.

Derek let out a grunt as he started slowly rocking against Stiles, his thrusts careful at first, but with a rapidly growing urgency and speed. Hearing Derek's shallow breathing and badly restrained sex noises made up for any physical discomfort Stiles might have been feeling.

Derek didn't last long. Stiles knew from experience that his endurance was way better than that. Perhaps he didn't feel the pressure to 'perform' because Stiles already came, or maybe he was just as horny as Stiles was and couldn't help it. Or maybe he cut it short out of consideration, in case Stiles would hate it.

Stiles decided that he didn't hate it, it wasn't his favorite thing ever, but hearing Derek use him as a fuck toy and come apart inside him, had its own charm.

Derek collapsed next to him, eyes closed, a big happy smile plastered on his face. A sight for sore eyes. Stiles loved it. Loved _him_.

Yeah.

Perhaps it was time to admit it, if only to oneself - Stiles was in love with Derek.

"Hey."

"Hey," Stiles grinned back at him.

"You ok?"

"More than."

Derek smirked. "So you're fine if I leave you this way for the rest of the day?"

"Hard pass."

Derek kissed him on the cheek and then got up to untie him. "So, you liked it?" he asked, as he freed his hands.

"Yeah."

"Everything?"

Stiles eyed the flogger and the buttplug laying on the bed. "Yes on the flogger, unsure about the plug, you were kinda mean with that. And we should try edging I guess, I mean it's frustrating, but kinda worth it?"

Derek nodded. "And the sex?"

"Uhm. That sounded cooler than it was… I mean, it hurt but…" he scratched his nose, searching for the right words to convey his feelings.

"Yay or nay?"

"Leaning towards yes. As long as you don't make a habit out of it."

"Noted." Derek examined his ass, the color started fading, but some of the soreness lingered. He placed Stiles over his knees bottom up, the position so familiar and so weirdly comforting. He grabbed the aloe cream and gave Stiles an awkward shrug. "I was told not to underestimate the importance of aftercare and shit."

"So you _did_ do your research," Stiles laughed, enjoying Derek's gentle fingers massaging the cooling cream onto his buttcheeks and upper back. "You were quite good with the flogger."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "I didn't know there were so many different ones. I had to try out like ten of them."

"Try out?"

"In the store."

"You were flogging yourself in the sex shop?" Stiles burst out. He wished he could have seen _that_.

"Yes," Derek admitted, his cheeks reddening the tiniest bit. "And the shopping assistant helped too."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah. I got the whole workshop, she was really into it."

"Now I really wish I was there. Did she plug you too?" Stiles chaffed.

Derek smacked his ass. "Aren't you supposed to be floating in subspace being all groggy and meek?"

"I guess you'll have to try harder, OW!"

"Come on, Stilinski, you are smarter than that," Derek mock chided, rubbing the freshly spanked buttcheek.

"I'm sorry I don't conform with your perceived image of BDSM," Stiles giggled and wiggled his ass. "What's the verdict? Will I live?"

"Might be a bit sore I guess. Although, I have no idea actually. Doesn't look any worse than when I punished you... Except for all the tears."

"That's different. You were mad at me then," Stiles muttered. Still, knowing how much Stiles hated to be disciplined it was a wonder Derek even tried any kind of impact play. "How did you, I mean why -"

"I caught you watching porn, remember?"

It was Stiles' turn to blush. "Yes, but I watch different stuff and it doesn't mean…"

"You were not all that subtle, you know. Even though you can't follow orders for shit, I know what turns you on."

"Oh."

Derek flipped Stiles around and helped him up to a sitting position. Stiles had two sets of flaming cheeks and munched on his bottom lip as he raised his eyes at Derek, feeling quite shy all of a sudden. The Alpha palmed his chin and leaned in to kiss his lips, brushing a thumb against Stiles's cheekbone.

"Dominating you is no hardship, babe. I enjoyed it a lot."

_I fucking love you._

* * *

xxx

Stiles was already fully dressed when Derek got out of the shower. The Alpha raised an eyebrow at him. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes. With you." When Derek didn't acknowledge that he was in fact going anywhere, Stiles tilted his head to the side with a 'come on' expression. "I know what day it is and I know where you are going. I'd like to come along," he explained watching the surprise on Derek's face switch to recognition. "I mean if you want me there, that is," he added tentatively. He would like to be there for Derek, but only if Derek actually wanted it.

Derek's lips pressed into a thin line. He walked towards the drawer and took out a fresh pair of underwear, a t-shirt, and jeans, and silently started dressing. Stiles lingered for a bit wondering if he didn't overstep. Just as he was ready to apologize and leave, Derek raised his gaze at him and nodded.

* * *

xxx

Stiles didn't know exactly where they were going, but he was not surprised when Derek stopped by the flower shop and bought several bouquets. He didn't talk, and Stiles didn't try to engage him in conversation either.

Their morning episode got a whole new flavor once Stiles realized that it was the Hale fire anniversary. Derek wasn't simply getting kinky with Stiles, he tried to get his mind off things, maybe cope with the sadness without expressively saying so. Stiles didn't mind. If a scene could get Derek to feel better then he was welcome to flog him to his heart's content. (Within reason, of course.)

The cemetery was empty, save for a lonely grandma weeding an old grave it was quiet and peaceful. Stiles helped to carry the flowers, tailing Derek silently one step behind. The Hale graves were well kept and expensive at first glance. Identical marble stones with gold engravings and signature Hale-triskelion on all of them. By the looks of it, the Hale family occupied the whole corner of the graveyard. There were at least 20 other graves of ancestors, all of them equally well maintained.

Derek distributed the flowers among his parents and sisters and then brought a single rose to the one further back, which Stiles assumed was grandma or great aunt or something.

Derek kneeled in front of his parent's grave and hung his head. Stiles didn't know what was the correct course of action in such situations. Was he supposed to leave Derek alone, stand by at the polite distance or come closer and give him a hug?

Stiles went with his instincts. He placed his hand on Derek's shoulder and squeezed. "They would have been proud of you."

Derek let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head. "We had a huge fight that night. Stuff we said to each other..."

"I know, Isaac told me. But people say things they don't mean when they are angry. I mean, are you still mad at them?"

"Of course not. I miss them. Terribly."

"See. The fight doesn't matter. They would have been proud of you for going on and being strong, taking care of the family business, and doing everything in your power to avenge them."

Derek palmed Stiles's hand on his shoulder in a sign of appreciation and then got up and stood next to him. For a moment they just looked at the gravestones in silence.

"They would have liked you."

"You mean, except for the fact that I'm not a superstar Alpha."

"Well, that would only matter if we…" Derek trailed off, probably realizing that they were in fact married. "If this was permanent," he corrected himself.

Stiles knew how Derek meant it but the words still cut him deep. He preferred not to think about the fact that their relationship had an expiration date. Of course, the end of BRP wouldn't necessarily mean the end for the two of them, but let's face it - what did Stiles and Derek really had in common? They came from completely different backgrounds, they didn't have many mutual interests and Derek was out of his league on too many levels. Sure, the sex was nice, great even, but Stiles was positive Derek could get great sex anywhere.

Thinking about the future brought a crushing sensation to his chest because Stiles was long past a simple attraction. His rational self knew that developing real feelings for the Alphahole was stupid and would only result in heartbreak. But love didn't care about rationality - it just happened. And denying the fact wasn't gonna save him from getting hurt anyway.

"Would you look at that," he heard a familiar voice coming from behind. They turned around to see Peter standing with a bunch of white roses in his hands. "Can't leave your little Award even for a moment without supervision. And here I thought he was already a big boy. No, no, no, you're right, better to keep an eye on him than to take another trip to jail."

The palpable sarcasm was not unexpected - it was a personality trait, as far as Stiles could tell. The dickish teasing could be a defense mechanism or it could be just a way of communication, either way, one would expect at least a modicum of respect at the cemetery. By the looks of it, Peter wasn't happy to see Stiles intervening on the family moment. The flowers in his hands could be play-pretend for Derek's benefit, a psychopathic gesture of gloating born from complete lack of compunction, or...

"You've got some nerve coming in here." His whole body tense, fists clenching, Derek clearly didn't expect to see his uncle here. Stiles's stomach churned sensing how this could go south very fast.

Peter feigned confusion. "I do?"

"After everything you've done."

"Oh, right. After what I've _done_," Peter spat visibly annoyed.

"I'll get you for it. I swear I will." Derek's voice was clipped, he was barely restraining himself. Stiles took his hand willing to calm him.

The gesture didn't escape Peter. "Whoa! Now _that's_ a plot twist - the drug dealer turned boy-toy. I guess this is kind of an awkward version of meeting the parents…"

Derek pounced. Like a lion going straight for the jugular, he knocked his uncle to the ground, landing a couple of brutal punches to his face, before Peter kicked him off, rolled around, and jumped back at him.

It was a terrifying sight - flashing eyes, snarling sounds, fangs, claws, kicks and punches and blurred movements. Stiles stood frozen for a moment, every instinct in his body telling him to get into a safe distance from the vicious fight. But of course, he couldn't just do nothing and let them kill each other.

"Stop it!" he yelled, which was predictably ignored by both of the enraged Alphas.

"You better seek help for those anger issues, dear nephew," Peter growled as they held each other in a chokehold, the battle of wills and endurance in place while their faces were getting redder and redder.

"My anger issues will be solved when you die," Derek gritted out.

"Drama queen."

"STOP IT!" Stiles yelled again.

"You will pay!"

"Get over yourself!"

This didn't make any sense to Stiles - you don't kill people and tell the bereaved ones to get over themselves. I mean how much of a psychopath would you have to be?

The protruded vein on Derek's forehead was screaming for help and Stiles couldn't stand by idly any longer. He fished out the pepper spray from his backpack and sprayed generously at the flailing pair, keeping his face as far as possible from the jet, and his eyes closed for good measure.

The effect was immediate. The Alphas jumped away from each other, clutching their faces, coughing and groaning in pain.

Stiles didn't realize what an inherently bad idea this was till after a minute or so the two pairs of terrifyingly furious bloodshot eyes stared back at him with deadly intent.

_Uh-oh._

* * *

_TBC_


	21. Revealing the truth

_Author's note: I was really looking forward to this chapter=)_

* * *

"What the FUCK, Stiles?!" Derek thundered, looking positively murderous. Stiles took a step back, calculating his odds at survival should he try to make a run for it.

"I… You… you weren't listening," he stuttered, resisting the urge to cower. The last time he saw Derek glare at him this way, they were in the holding cell of the police station. The irritated skin on Derek's face, broken lip, and bloodshot eyes which were still tearing up made him look so much scarier though.

Derek grabbed him by the collar and Stiles flinched showing his neck on instinct. He half expected those fangs to sink into his flesh to "rip his throat out" the way Derek liked to threaten. Once again Stiles wondered what possessed him to meddle into the fight. He should have just walked away, right? Let the Alphas deal with their business.

Ridiculous.

"You would kill each other," he found his voice, staring back at Derek's furious face.

"_I_ was fine," Derek growled, "And _he_ deserves to die."

"No Derek, it's not…"

Derek let go of Stiles's collar to throw his hands in the air as he yelled in his face. "He KILLED my family, he tried to kill ME!"

He sounded more than just angry, he sounded hurt. As if Stiles betrayed him by trying to "save his uncle". Which, of course, wasn't the case at all. Stiles couldn't care less about Peter but he didn't want Derek to end up in jail for murder. Not to mention, that despite Derek's claims he didn't look like he was confidently winning that fight.

"I couldn't just do nothing and let you throw away..."

"Wait, WHAT?!" Peter boomed, interrupting both of them.

Derek turned to him. "You've already admitted it. No point in pretending now."

"I have admitted _what_ exactly?" Peter looked shocked. And yes, he could be pretending, but Stiles was positive he was genuinely stunned by Derek's words.

"I know all about your collaboration with Blast Pharmaceuticals behind my back! You have no qualms about selling our pharmaceutical division to the conglomerate that is behind the death of our family. And why would you, you were in on it from the beginning!"

Peter gaped at him at loss for words. His shirt was ripped and his cheek was sporting a dark purple bruise, his face was not as red as Derek's, who probably got most of the pepper spray dose (not like Stiles was actually looking where he was spraying), but he didn't seem to care about any of that. He sat down on one of the tombstones, cradled his head in his hands, and started laughing.

That was certainly not the reaction anyone expected. Derek frowned in confusion but didn't look like he was gonna jump at his uncle for an extra dose of ass-kicking.

"All this time I thought you couldn't get over the fact that I told your parents about that stupid engagement," Peter said shaking his head. "As if you could keep that thing a secret, to begin with." He smacked his forehead in a quintessential facepalm. "And Voila! Apparently I am a _murderer_ now. Well, at least it's nothing as shallow anymore."

Stiles was sold even before Peter started speaking. Derek was not buying it.

"Yeah, you are gonna deny it now. Not like you stood to gain the most shares in the Hale Industries after their deaths. Not like I _told _you I was going to spend the night at Paige's place the night her apartment magically suffered a gas leak. Not like you were negotiating with Blast for months before they pinged us the offer."

"You are an idiot, Derek."

Name-calling must have been running in the family. Stiles couldn't help but see aching similarities between the two Alphas.

"Yes, I am. I should have employed your methods and hire proper goons to blackmail you instead of wasting money on private investigators," Derek spat back.

"So those were yours? Oh my fucking God." Peter winced as if the absurdity of Derek's statements was physically hurting him. "So pray tell, dear nephew, what have your PI's dug on me? Other than business emails on the acquisition."

Derek clenched his fists and scowled at Peter, but he didn't look so sure about himself anymore. "You were obviously careful..."

"In other words, you have _nothing_. Now, why would that be?" Peter wasn't trying to persuade him, he knew that Derek had nothing on him because there was nothing to be found.

Stiles saw Derek deflate unhappily. If he wasn't still worried that Derek might do him bodily harm, he would have hugged him.

"But… you never even entertained the idea that it was Palmer. And you must have known what mom had on him," by now Derek's voice lost all of its bite and sounded more like an excuse.

Peter's face softened as he sighed. "I _thought_ you didn't know about the dirt she had on Palmer. I _thought_ that by keeping you out of this I was protecting you."

"Moron."

The two stared at each other, some silent communication going on between them before both broke into a grin. Peter got up and walked over to Derek embracing his nephew in a bear hug. "You are the moron. I was simply looking out for you."

Derek returned the hug for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head. "You are doing a shitty job then. They are still after me. They are persuaded I have the evidence. I searched the fire site for days looking for that flashdisk. It's not there."

"I know."

Derek's eyes widened. "No fucking way! You have it?! But then why haven't you given it to the police?! That would bust their stupid 'faulty wiring' version."

"Because it's not enough. You need more than just a motive to prove murder."

Derek didn't argue. After all, he told Stiles the exact same thing.

"And if my moronic nephew ever listened to reason, then we would have long since been a part of Blast Pharmaceuticals, getting access to the inside information!"

"You wanted to sell our star business to the competitor… to get evidence?"

Oh, the irony. Derek thought Peter killed his family for money… And in fact, Peter was ready to sacrifice their cash cow for a chance to get justice for their murder.

"I think you guys should work on your communication skills," Stiles deadpanned, making both Alphas turn their heads. It looked like the men forgot all about him while they figured out their differences, and now that he dared to open his mouth again, the way their eyes narrowed didn't promise anything good for Stiles.

"I'll hold him for you," Peter said with an evil smirk.

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm not beating him."

"You look like you want to."

"No, _YOU _look like you want to," Stiles retorted, frowning.

"Oh, I'm _dying_ to." Peter had his smug look back in place. "But I'm not gonna deny my nephew the pleasure. We have just made up."

"No one is beating Stiles." Derek blocked Peter's way, though his voice sounded more annoyed than threatening.

His uncle made a tsking sound and rubbed his sore eyes. "You're spoiling him."

"Why did I even bother saving your ass," Stiles shook his head bewildered.

"Hey now. Just so that we are clear - you saved your boyfriend's ass. Not mine."

"Runs in the fucking family," Stiles grumbled under his nose. But apparently not quietly enough, because both Alphas frowned at him. "The 'Alphahole genes'. You are not all that _rare_ after all," he noted sarcastically, waving his hand at Derek.

Derek ignored the jab and grabbed the pepper spray from the ground. He gave it a shake and let out an annoyed huff. "Should have let you keep the fake gun."

"Why?"

"It's empty. I gave it to you for protection and the two times you used it I ended up first with a sore ass and then with sore eyes," he spat, throwing the can at Stiles.

The irony wasn't lost on Stiles. He caught the empty can and cast Derek a sheepish smile.

"Now _that _sounds like a story I need to hear," Peter chuckled. "Come over tonight. We have some catching up to do."

"Yes we do," Derek agreed with a small smile of his own.

* * *

xxx

Stiles wasn't entirely sure he was out of hot water for using the pepper spray on Derek. The Alpha didn't seem angry, looking deep in thought as they drove back home, but then again, he didn't have to be angry to punish Stiles.

Stiles's ass was still a bit sore from the morning and he wanted to avoid a spanking at all costs. Asking if he had one coming might have put his mind at ease, but it would have also reminded Derek about the incident itself. So Stiles didn't and instead focused on coming up with reasons why he absolutely had to do it and why Derek should just accept it.

As they exited the elevator on their floor they saw the delivery guy with a package. Derek frowned at first examining the box, but then must have recognized the origin and smiled to himself.

Stiles beelined for the beer to the fridge, wondering if he should bring up the first aid for Derek's face or just pretend it was fine since the Alpha's superior health must have already dealt with the worst of it.

"Stiles?"

"Hm?" He peeked behind the fridge door and saw Derek crook a finger at him. His stomach did a flip flop as he reviewed his defense in his head.

"Come here."

"Why?"

"Because I just told you to."

"No thank you, I'm fine here."

"_Stilinski!" _

"Am I in trouble?"

"You will be if you keep disobeying me."

"Just tell me what it is and I'll obey you."

"Jesus Stiles, why does it always have to be so hard with you, why can't you just do as you are told?" Derek's voice sounded more amused than frustrated though.

"Because you have the sadist face on."

"The sadist face?" the Alpha raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening like he knew exactly what Stiles was talking about and enjoyed it a little too much.

"Yeah _that_ face," Stiles confirmed pointing a finger at him. "I'm not trusting that face!"

"Stop being dramatic and come here, I have something to show you."

That won Stiles over as his curiosity trumped his wariness. When he flumped on the sofa next to Derek the Alpha swiftly unlocked the clasp of his necklace and it dropped down in a puddle on his lap.

"Hey!"

Derek pulled the ring from the necklace and then did the same on his own necklace. Before Stiles could ask what he was doing, Derek handed him a small black velvet jewelry box. Stiles's heart fluttered as he opened it and found two pendants inside. He couldn't help a burst of surprised laughter when he realized that the pendants were a mix between the Hale triskelion and the BDSM one.

"What's this? The first rendition of Hale kinkskelion?" he asked grinning.

Derek matched his grin. "I wanted to have something more personal. Turn it around."

Stiles turned the pendant and read, "Adorkable moron". The other pendant said "Alphahole dickhead". He laughed again and then shook his head at the Alpha.

"And you call ME a teenager?"

"Call it as I see it."

This was probably the most romantic thing Derek ever did and it made Stiles's heart swell with affection, his feelings suddenly overwhelming.

"Thank you. I love this! I …" Stiles stopped abruptly. The last thing he wanted was to confess in the heat of the moment only to receive a Han Solo's signature '_I know' _in response. After all, Derek made it abundantly clear that their relationship was temporary just a couple of hours ago.

Derek sat up when Stiles suddenly fell silent. "What is it?"

Stiles knew he should have made a joke or changed the topic or diverted Derek's attention some other way. It would have been a sensible and safe thing to do. But his feelings were all over the place and he was craving some clarity, so he ended up blurting, "What am I to you?"

The Alpha frowned in confusion. "In what sense?"

Stiles lost his nerve right there. "Nevermind."

There was a moment of awkward silence as Stiles tried to get a grip on his raging emotions.

"You are such a teenager."

"I'm not a fucking -"

"I love you."

"- teenager," he finished saying and then stared at Derek. "What?"

The Alpha chuckled. "I said that you are a teenager."

"No, I heard…"

"And that I love you," Derek smiled, dropping his gaze. Stiles would bet he was blushing, but his skin was still red from the pepper spray, so there was no way to tell. "I thought it should be fairly obvious by now."

"I…" Stiles resisted an urge to scream, dance, or jump around pumping his chest. He could take a confession with dignity. He cleared his throat, willing his voice to remain in the normal tonality. "I love you too." There. That didn't come out overly eager and breathless _at all._

"Now _that_ was fairly obvious for a while now."

Stiles rolled his eyes, wanting to be annoyed but grinning like dork instead. "You're such a dick."

"But you love me anyway," Derek parried, using the same phrase Stiles did before. "Even though you have a unique way of showing it. You know, pepper-spraying me in the face and stuff." He gave Stiles a pointed look.

"I'm not sorry."

"I know." Derek smiled warmly and then leaned in cupping his face. "It's ok, I'll find a way to make you pay."

"Can't wait," Stiles breathed out before Derek silenced him with a kiss that would put half of the Hollywood industry to shame.

* * *

xxx

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Derek's voice coupled with a sudden feeling of alarm jerked Stiles into awareness. His skin was crawling with premonition and he knew that something very bad was happening, but the fog on his conscience kept sweeping him back into dreamland. He tried to get his eyes to open and groaned at the headache. Somebody was gripping his arm painfully. Why was he so sleepy? What was going on?

"I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this."

He recognized Liam's voice and didn't like how absolutely freaked out it sounded. Stiles finally opened his eyes and lifted his upper body to see what was going on. He was lying on the sofa in the living room. The room was dimly illuminated by the TV and the night lamp, suggesting it was late. Liam was sitting next to him, his hands grasping a syringe and shaking, his face dangerously pale and panicking, tears streaming down his cheeks.

What the hell was going on? What was he missing?

He remembered the day - the morning kinkfest, the encounter with Peter in a cemetery, Derek's confession, the follow-up sex… But what happened next? Oh right, Derek offered him to tag along to visit his uncle, but since Stiles was pretty sure they needed some alone time after everything that happened, he politely refused. Then Liam came over for dinner as usual and the two of them settled to watch some Netflix show together.

And then nothing...

"What is in there?" Derek's voice was like ice. Stiles turned his head to see the Alpha approaching them slowly, eyes a nasty shade of crimson practically glowing in the dark.

"I'm sorry," Liam cried, dropping the syringe on the floor.

"_What_ is in there?!" Derek bellowed. Too loud. Stiles's temples pulsed in protest.

"Heroin."

That's when Stiles realized what the annoying pressure in his arm was about as he noticed the rubber band squeezing his biceps, making the veins bulge on his forearm.

Derek's face lost all color. "No… No, no way," he stumbled backward, shaking his head and looking nauseated.

"I'm sorry! I wanted to tell you. I couldn't.. I..." The teen broke down in heavy sobs.

"No fucking way," Derek groaned, his face twisting as if he was ready to start crying as well, as he grabbed the sofa to still himself. The fact that the Alpha was so shaken scared the shit out of Stiles. He was clearly missing something, something important.

"What is going on?! I don't understand. God, my head is killing me," Stiles said, surprised how raspy his voice sounded.

"You sedated him?!"

Liam nodded his head, still wailing.

Stiles tried to force his mind to focus. If Liam sedated him, it explained the grogginess. The rubber band on his arm suggested that the shot of heroin was intended for him. So the boy sedated him so he could inject him with a dose of strong opioid. That made sense, he supposed. The only question remained - why?

"Why did you want to drug me?!"

"The BRP," Derek said, face hidden in his hands, looking utterly defeated.

That didn't make things any clearer. Why would Liam want to sabotage Stiles' rehabilitation? Did Stiles do something to him? No, even if he did, the kid would never get even this way.

"I don't understand." Stiles sat up, taking off the rubber band and squeezing his hand in a fist a couple times to get the feeling back to his fingers. "Why?"

"Because it would land Derek in jail," Liam finally explained, taking a couple of shallow breaths.

That still didn't make any sense. Why would Liam want to get rid of Derek? What could he possibly…? Oh no… no way!

Stiles remembered the first time the kid approached him was to offer him weed, but surely it wasn't for that purpose? It _couldn't_ be… But his mind already started putting the pieces of the puzzle together, even as his whole being protested the idea.

He remembered how quickly Liam agreed to get into their apartment, how he stole Derek's laptop but brought it back when it got locked, how easily he agreed to stay overnight, and yet refused to give any info about himself. And then he kept coming back…

"Why?" Stiles whispered, his voice giving out, already knowing the answer.

Liam hugged his knees and let out another couple of heartbreaking sobs, before finally managing to get the words out. "I work for Deucalion."

* * *

_TBC_

_So, this was a looong time in the making. Surprised? Shocked? Guessed it all along? I would love to hear your thoughts._


	22. Family

_Author's note: Finally getting to Liam's story. Mentions of abuse and some other darker stuff. (nothing graphic)_

* * *

The sense of betrayal was suffocating. After everything they've done for the kid… and the entire time Liam was working for the enemy. They got played like morons by a 13-year-old.

Liam's sobbing only increased in volume, but Stiles didn't feel the need to comfort him. He wanted to hit him. Hurt him. Like he hurt them. In fact, Stiles was rather surprised that Derek hadn't yet. After all, he was the target all along and his explosive nature could easily land Liam in hospital.

But Derek didn't look enraged, he looked devastated. He grew to care about the kid just like Stiles did.

Stiles tried to block out his hurt feelings and analyze the situation. In a sense, this was a good thing. The boy had information. Perhaps he could be helpful. With the evidence on Palmer's collaboration with Blast Pharmaceuticals from Peter and Liam's testimony on Deucalion maybe they could make a case.

They wouldn't be able to get anything out of the kid while he was this hysterical though. Stiles got up, bracing against the sofa for a moment to find his footing as he was still a bit dizzy. He made his way to the kitchen and searched for that valerian bottle Derek used to calm him down after the shooting episode. Ruby got immediately summoned by the smell, showing keen interest in the plastic cap. Stiles let her play with it while he poured three glasses of water adding a couple drops of valerian in each. He drank his own, grimacing at the taste, placed one in front of Derek, and handed the last one to Liam.

"Drink," he ordered firmly. The boy never heard Stiles speak to him in such a tone so he immediately obeyed, gulping down the liquid in between shaky breaths. "Try to calm down, we need to talk," Stiles instructed and then prompted Derek to do the same.

Ten minutes later the dizziness was gone and his headache subsided. Liam seemed to be over the worst of the sobbing, only letting out shaky breaths every now and then and Derek had some color return to his face.

"Talk," the Alpha growled.

Liam hugged his knees tighter and cast Stiles a worried glance. But seeing that he was not gonna get any sympathy there either, he gulped and muttered, "I don't know where to start."

_How about explaining how you could do this to us?!_ Stiles thought angrily. Except that wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Why now?" he asked instead. "You have been here for so long, you had many opportunities to do this before."

"They didn't want me to do this before. I was meant to find what Derek had on Palmer, or anything else useful."

"So you offering me weed was a coincidence?"

"No... I mean that was the original plan, but then…"

"Are you lying again?"

"No! I'm not! I'm so sorry. I'll tell you everything! I couldn't…" The tears welled in his eyes again, and Stiles actually felt bad for being the cause of them.

Derek didn't. "Stop wailing, it won't work. Get a grip and start talking, or I'll give you an incentive you won't like," he threatened, making the kid flinch, but oddly enough it did stop the approaching fit of hysterics.

"When you refused to buy the weed, I couldn't just leave empty-handed so I grabbed the laptop. But by the time I brought it to Deucalion, it was locked. He was pissed…" The boy didn't have to add that it meant he got beaten. They have seen the evidence of that time and time again. "I was sent back to either plant the weed somewhere it could be found, or come back with something worthwhile."

"And I offered you unlimited visits." Stiles shook his head. "Stupid."

Liam lowered his gaze guiltily. "It was so nice of you..."

"Yeah. I was real nice to the kid who jumped in front of my car to get me killed!"

"NO! That was an accident! I swear! Please, you have to believe me! I didn't know you back then. I just wasn't looking!" Liam waved his hands frantically, eyes like saucers. "It's when I've seen you at the BRP headquarters, that my uncle told Deucalion we knew each other and that the best way to get Derek out of the picture was through you."

"Wait, your uncle works for the BRP?" Derek asked, frowning.

"Garrett Douglas."

_Oh God, of course! _That was so obvious! Why didn't Stiles think of that before? He saw Liam talk to Douglas that day, but then he totally forgot about it and never asked the kid what it was about.

"Douglas? That asshole is your uncle?!" Derek grimaced as if that name brought a sour taste to his mouth. Which it probably did.

Stiles shared the sentiment. "So your uncle works for Deucalion?" he asked the boy.

"Yes and no. He works for the government and he worked with Palmer for many years."

"So he must be the missing link between Deucalion, Blast Pharmaceuticals and Mason Palmer," Stiles said looking at Derek, and then turned back to Liam. "So what did you find? What kind of information were you feeding them?"

Liam bit his lip, picking at the loose thread on his jeans. "I never wanted to tell them _anything! _I said that you don't trust me and won't let me out of your sight. That worked for a while. Till it didn't and I got beat up, you got mad and I ran away. They found me and forced me to go back. I was sure I'd get caned for kicking you…" Liam glanced up and seeing Derek's frown he shrugged, "Uncle said Stiles got it pretty badly at the BRP group. But you didn't even get angry. And you were so nice afterward, I felt like crap…" The boy stared in his lap for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair and continued, "They knew they can't beat me up if they wanted me to continue snitching without you calling the social services, so they started beating up others in front of me as motivation." His voice cracked again, and he took a couple shaky breaths to calm himself.

Stiles's heart throbbed for the boy. He might be angry at him, but he couldn't help feeling bad. Obviously the kid didn't _want_ any of this.

"It was the worst. I was forced to watch as they wailed on this guy or that guy, sometimes they were only a couple years older than me. And they always made sure I knew it was my fault. So I _had to_ start looking for something... anything to give them."

It then hit Stiles. "Wait, you accused _me_ of snooping!" he exclaimed, looking at Derek.

The Alpha nodded. "I started noticing misplaced things in my drawers. I knew it had to be either you or Liam and originally I thought it was about money. So I started leaving money unattended in various places, but nothing ever disappeared, so I figured it had to be about something else. And then you mentioned the photo and I assumed it was you going through my belongings to dig info on my past."

Well, it made sense now that Derek flew off the handle this way. Stiles would be pretty pissed as well if he found his boyfriend snooping through his things.

"I'm sorry. I know it was a shitty way to repay you for all the kindness. I saw you going through the profiles on the computer, so I searched for the names I knew to give you a hint. But you didn't recognize any till Morton."

"You were trying to help us?" Derek looked skeptical.

"I know you don't believe me, but I swear I never wanted anyone to get hurt. Least of all you two."

"And that's why I found you with a shot of heroin ready to go into Stiles's vein."

"I DIDN'T WANT TO!" the boy yelled, smashing his fists against the sofa in frustration.

Derek narrowed his eyes, clearly not in the mood for a display of teenage angst, but Stiles had a hard time staying mad at the boy. Liam was suffering, they knew he was mistreated and they did nothing about it. Derek wanted to. God, he should have listened to him. If he knew what the kid was going through he wouldn't hesitate to call the child protective services. Even if he ended up locked in some juvenile correctional facility it would have been better than this.

Liam caught Derek's glare and shrunk. "I spent two hours persuading myself to do it. His sedation started to wear off and then you came. I swear if I had any other choice…" his voice quivered again.

Stiles's hand moved on its own volition landing on the kid's shoulder and squeezing it gently. "What did they do?"

"I had to give them _something_ so I told them that you got Morton. I thought they would get off my case, but it only spooked them. They gave me the heroin and told me to inject you so that the next urine test proves you are on drugs. When I refused, they brought in the girl. A hooker. She was 18 or so and high on meth…" Liam trailed off and Stiles' stomach churned with dread. "They beat her up and... raped her. Said that they will do it as many times as needed to get me moving." The last words were accompanied by a new wave of tears.

Even Derek couldn't keep a straight face. "Those fuckers!"

Stiles pulled the crying kid in a hug gently petting his head. "It's gonna be alright, kiddo. We will figure it out. I promise."

"You hate me now," Liam wailed.

"We don't," Stiles reassured him.

"How can you not?! I betrayed you. I'm the reason Morton didn't lead you anywhere. And now they want to get rid of Derek. I fucked up everything!"

It finally made sense why the kid was acting out the way he did, why he didn't want a birthday party. He was under so much pressure. Add the constant guilt to the mix, it was a wonder he didn't crack sooner.

Stiles sighed unhappily and glanced at Derek for help. The Alpha got up and joined them on the sofa, wrapping a hand around Liam's trembling figure. "You should have told us," he scolded gently.

"I was scared."

"Fear makes us do stupid things, but you knew that this could only end badly. I just wish you trusted us more."

"I wanted to but…" Liam shook his head, hiding his face in Stiles's shirt.

"But you don't have exactly prime role models in your life," Stiles finished for him. "I knew Douglas was a sadistic asshole, but to do this to his own nephew..."

"He wasn't always like this. He used to be the fun uncle that always brought me expensive presents. But when my parents died, I became a burden he had to take care of. He resented me for it, blamed me for my parents' deaths because they were going to pick me up from my friend's birthday party when the drunk driver hit them."

It was the first time Liam ever spoke about what happened. Stiles saw Derek's hand tighten around the boy.

"He said that I wasn't gonna be a freeloader, that I had to do my part, and tossed me over to Deucalion. He never wanted to know what I was doing for him. Said that it was my job and confidentiality was an important part of it. He didn't care if they hurt me, always covered for my bruises at school. I thought that if I please Deucalion, then maybe he would love me again…"

"Oh kiddo," Stiles felt his own heart bleeding for Liam. Poor, lonely, affection starved boy. He learned to be tough-skinned to survive, but he was still just a kid, craving love and attention. A family. Stiles figured they sort of became one - a weird and problematic one for sure, with obvious trust and communication issues - but a family. Stiles knew that he and Derek won't be able to undo years of emotional and physical abuse, but they could forgive him and be there for him. They let the boy cry, as they held him and petted his head softly.

"I think it's time we hit the bed," Derek said after a couple of minutes. "We will talk more in the morning and figure out what to do. But right now we all need some sleep."

"Would it be alright if I slept in my room tonight?" Stiles asked Derek, reluctant to leave the boy alone after the emotional turmoil of the evening.

Derek smiled and nodded, "Of course, babe. Good night," he kissed Stiles on the lips and then leaned down to kiss the top of Liam's head.

* * *

xxx

Despite the "forced nap" in the evening, Stiles fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He vaguely remembered the "elevator smell" joining them in the middle of the night, but since Derek wasn't in bed when Stiles woke up, he figured he might have dreamed it.

Derek was cooking breakfast, which was a first. But definitely a good sign. Stiles tiptoed towards him sneakily and hugged him from behind. "Hey. How are you? Were you lonely tonight?"

The Alpha smiled and kissed his cheek. "I managed," he shrugged with a grin, which made Stiles think that he might not have dreamed it after all.

Liam joined them a few minutes later looking like a bundle of nerves. He munched on his lower lip, hands twisting the hem of his shirt as he hovered by the door. "Am I in trouble?"

Stiles wasn't sure how to answer that question, though it was probably not addressed to him either. Punishing Liam for his actions felt completely disproportionate. Either they viewed it as utter betrayal in which case no amount of discipline would ever make things ok between them. Or they viewed it as a poor abused child being pressured into crime by his only living relative, unable to fight with conditions he was put in. And Stiles believed they had already established that it was the latter, in which case, Liam did nothing to be punished for.

Sure, he should have told them earlier. Should have trusted them. Should have done the right thing. But after years of emotional neglect and street justice, was it really so wrong of him to fear rejection? To fear that the people who showed him care and kindness would turn away from him if they learned the truth?

Stiles was pretty sure that Derek arrived at the same conclusion and yet, the Alpha didn't outright say so. Instead, he tilted his head to the side studying the kid and asked conversationally, "What do _you_ think?"

That was smart on his part. Liam might have seen it differently. It was clear that he was still overridden with guilt and if they suddenly told him, that he did nothing wrong, it might send the wrong message. Derek was always on his back for coarse language, attitude, and other minor things, and now if he simply dismissed something so big, the boy might interpret it like he didn't care anymore.

"Yes?" Even though Liam phrased it as a question, it obviously wasn't one.

Stiles and Derek shared a look and the Alpha nodded curtly. He got up and walked over to his desk, pulling the chair out and beckoning Liam over with his hand. The boy cast Stiles a pleading look. He might have expected to be punished, but it didn't mean that he _wanted_ to be.

Stiles didn't want him to be either but it was not his call and he was not gonna interfere. Frankly, he was contemplating leaving the room altogether. But then when Liam finally dragged his feet over to the desk, Derek sat him down and placed a paper and pen in front of him. Stiles exhaled with a smile knowing exactly where Derek was going with it.

Liam looked up confused. "But I thought…"

"You thought wrong," Derek said firmly. "Now you are gonna write down a few sentences and then copy them till you start to believe them. Number one - I am a good person, capable of doing the right thing and deserving to be loved."

Liam grimaced, giving Derek a skeptical look.

"I don't see you writing, champ. Go on."

The boy huffed but didn't argue and wrote the sentence down.

"Number two - I am not responsible for other people's actions, including but not limited to drunk drivers, thugs, drug lords, murderers, and rapists."

Stiles's skin prickled at those words. After all the things the boy was forced to watch, it would probably take more than copying that line a couple times to get him to get over it. Stiles made a mental note to ask around for a good therapist.

"Number three - Stiles and Derek care a great deal about me. I will trust them and never keep anything important from them again."

Liam blushed, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips.

"Got all that? Let me see." Derek scanned the paper and nodded in approval. "Now I want you to sit here and copy them 50 times each."

Ouch. Stiles's fingers whined in sympathy.

"EACH?! Are you kidding? That's 150 and these are some long-ass sentences too!" the boy exclaimed indignantly.

Derek remained unmoved by the outburst. He crossed his arms on the chest and gave the boy a stern look. "Would you care to make it a 100 each?"

"No, Sir."

"Didn't think so."

Liam scowled at the Alpha sulkily. "I would have preferred a whupping," he grumbled under his breath.

"Too bad. Now cut the attitude and get on with it."

"Derek, what about breakfast?" Stiles reminded him.

"Right, go eat, then you can start on the torture."

...

"Hundred and fifty! My hands will fall off," Liam complained, stuffing his mouth with an omelet that Derek made.

Stiles smirked, knowing exactly how it felt. "You'll be fine."

"Even Derek himself called it torture! This is abuse!"

Stiles stared at him, his smile disappearing.

"It's a joke, Stiles. Unclench."

"Brat."

...

As Liam wrote down his lines, Stiles and Derek were joined by Peter to figure out how they can use the newfound information. Predictably Liam didn't know much. Just enough to be able to do his job. Stiles was advocating for involving law enforcement, while both Derek and Peter argued against it because they didn't trust the police.

"Stop taking this personally, Stiles."

"I'm not!"

"Remember how easily I paid off the guy who found the weed in your jeep?" Peter jumped in to support his nephew. It was unfair to be ganged up against by two Alphas, but Stiles was not giving up.

"If it wasn't for Jordan, we would…"

"Jordan is a friend, he can be trusted, can you say the same for the police here? One asshole fucks up and suddenly half the evidence becomes inadmissible in court."

"And you think that your private investigators will do better? They obviously did such a great job so far," Stiles countered sarcastically.

Frustrated silence fell between them.

"Can I take a break?" came Liam's voice from the desk.

Derek turned to him with a frown. "How many have you done?"

"Twenty."

"No."

"He has been at it for over an hour," Stiles appealed on the kid's behalf.

Derek looked between Stiles and Liam and then nodded, "Alright, you can take 10 minutes."

Stiles thought the kid would take a bathroom break, or go laze around in his room, but he joined them at the table instead, smiling at Stiles gratefully.

"Ohh, buddy, you are so screwed," Peter teased, clearly indicating that Derek was a big softie manipulated by the Betas.

"No one asked for your input," Derek retorted.

"Is he always such a wuss?" Peter asked the boy, nudging him in the ribs.

Liam gave Peter an assessing look. "I smell a trick question."

"Smart boy." Peter ruffled his hair. "Deucalion lost quite an asset."

The boy just shrugged at the questionable compliment, focusing on stretching and flexing his fingers demonstratively. Nobody seemed to be particularly sympathetic to his plight though.

"Well, Deucalion doesn't know about it yet," Derek said, bringing them back on the topic, "Which gives us a short time window to act, so we better come up with something."

The idea popped into Stiles's mind. "Why don't we give him what he wants?"

"Huh?"

"The evidence on Palmer. Let's give it to him."

"Sure. And then why don't we off ourselves as well, while we are at it. You know, just to help the guy," Peter said sarcastically.

Stiles shook his head, fishing his phone out of his pocket and dialing Danny's number. "Hey, Danny. Is Jackson nearby?"

"He is asleep. Why?"

"Remember how in 10th grade he infected my tablet with a virus that loaded pics from my selfie folder to the front page of the school website?"

"Yeah, that was hard to forget," Danny laughed. "Especially since you kept taking new ones for a week before you finally found out."

Stiles blushed at the memory. That was embarrassing as fuck...

"Do you think he could cook something like this for me again?"

"No, Stiles, I don't think he can."

"Why?"

"Because it was me."

"You son of a…" Stiles flexed his fists in silent outrage. "Nevermind. I'll beat you up later... or send Derek to duel you in my honor, whatever. Right now I need your help. How fast can you get here?"

* * *

_TBC_


	23. High

"So what does it do?"

Danny gave his audience a smug smile and stretched his arms. "It's spyware. It enables screen sharing and logs your activity, constantly sending data to the receiver - right now that's me. Open the file," he instructed Stiles.

Stiles clicked on the attachment Danny sent on his mail, it was a picture of a dog. Immediately his screen appeared on Danny's laptop.

"Cool!"

"This is not all. It also has a keylogger, which will give me access to any and all personal accounts you will visit. Email, bank account, social networks, etc. And if you send this file to Derek and he opens it, his device gets infected as well."

"And even if he doesn't open, we will know that the file has been sent to him," Stiles thought out loud.

"Shouldn't this get caught by an antivirus program?" Peter asked.

"Mine didn't," Stiles noted and Danny nodded in agreement.

"This one is fairly new. It will probably get caught in, let's say, a few weeks - a month from now. When providers update their programs. Anyway, unless you want me to do it right now, I have to get back to work.

"Thanks, Danny, I owe you. I'll text you later."

"No problem. Though I'd rather not _duel_ Derek," Danny replied with a chuckle, shaking hands with others.

"Even if we did, it would probably be in the realms of bowling."

"Then you're on."

Once Danny left, Derek sent Liam to finish his lines. The plan was fairly simple - give Deucalion the infected flash disk and see where the information travels. If everything went as planned, it should give them everyone - Palmer, Deucalion, Douglas, whoever was involved from Blast Pharmaceuticals.

"Alright, so the only question remains is how are we gonna get evidence to Deucalion without raising suspicion," Peter said.

Derek shrugged. "I'll give it to him in exchange for leaving me alone."

"Yeah, that won't be suspicious _at all_," Peter replied sarcastically.

Stiles had to agree with him. Deucalion was not stupid, he would know that if Derek suddenly gave him the evidence, then something was going on.

"It can't come from you or Peter. I, on the other hand, have every reason to hate you. I'm in the BRP because of you, you publicly caned me, I also got shot at because of you. I could try to strike a deal - ask them to help me cut my Program short in exchange for this."

"No."

Stiles glared at Derek, irritated at having his idea dismissed without a second thought. "Why not?"

"Too risky. You are not getting anywhere near those fuckers and that's not up for discussion. I'm an Alpha, so I'm going."

"Ye, and I'm an analyst so I can't go to Yemen," Stiles retorted sarcastically.

"What?"

"Non sequitur."

Derek still looked confused.

"It's from the Jack Ryan trailer that has been plaguing Twitch for months," Liam called from the desk.

Which obviously didn't help Derek whatsoever.

"God, you are hopeless," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"_I_ am hopeless? You are the one who is speaking in tongues!"

Peter rolled his eyes at them. "Stiles meant that you being an Alpha is not an argument. And I agree. Although both of you purposely overlook the simplest solution." He nodded towards Liam.

Stiles sighed. Peter was right. The easiest would be to have Liam do what he was meant to do from the beginning. Deucalion tasked him with finding this very thing, and after witnessing a girl get raped no one should question his extra motivation to perform.

"They'll know if I don't inject you with the heroin though," Liam noted, getting up and joining them at the table.

"Then do it."

The three of them stared at Peter.

"Look. If you want this to work, then we have to make sure the kid is as credible as possible."

"Did you miss the little fact that it was supposed to land me in jail?" Derek snapped.

"Well technically, it should only warrant a public punishment," Stiles argued. "At least that's what I've been told. _They find anything in your urine, then you are in for a treat in the next group session._"

"Didn't know you are so eager to get trashed, Stiles. Besides, Douglas is on the committee, we won't get away with this."

"What if we tell Kira?"

Derek considered it for a moment. "Can we trust her?"

"No idea," Stiles shrugged. "She can be kind of a bitch."

"But she owes us one."

"True, and she hates Douglas."

"It doesn't matter," Peter interrupted them. "You said this won't come up till the next group session. By that time Douglas should be already behind bars himself."

"IF everything goes as it should…" Derek ran a hand through his hair tiredly.

"It will," Stiles said firmly but Derek still looked opposed.

"What if you get addicted?"

"Come on. I won't get addicted from a single shot."

Derek capitulated. "Alright. But we are telling Kira AND we are telling your dad." Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but Derek raised his palm to shush him. "No. If you want me to put you and Liam in danger then we are taking all the possible precautions. You will take a urine sample before getting the shot, so Kira knows we didn't cook the excuse post factum. And we are telling your dad, so he can kill me if something goes wrong. And also so he can give Liam some extra protection, cause I'm not sending him there blindly."

"Alright."

"So we are doing this?" Liam jumped on the chair excitedly.

"Yeah." Stiles smiled at him and the two Alphas nodded in agreement.

"One last thing," Derek raised a finger. "What's Twitch, who is Jack Ryan, and why can't he go to Yemen?"

* * *

xxx

Telling Stiles's dad went as "well" as one could expect. Stiles might have gone deaf on one ear. Derek got his fair share of yelling as well, and to his credit, he even appeared guilty while remaining stoically respectful.

It wasn't till Stiles professed his feelings for Derek, that his dad finally caved and reluctantly agreed to their plan.

They invited Kira over and gave her a short version of the events and why Stiles had to get drugged. Predictably, she was quite skeptical but having the Sheriff there added credibility to their claims. Once they told her that it was targeted at Douglas and should permanently remove him from the BRP, she was on board. She promised to make sure Douglas became aware of the opioids in Stiles' urine sample as soon as possible and to schedule a hearing at least 2 weeks from now to give them enough time to catch everyone before having to face the BRP committee.

Stiles dreaded the shot. Not because he was afraid of the drug itself. The dose was just high enough that it couldn't be excused with a poppy seed pastry, so he didn't expect any long term effects. And obviously, people didn't get addicted for nothing, so it ought to be at least a somewhat pleasant experience. It was the needle having to go inside his vein that made him sweat and fidget, anxiously eyeing the syringe.

"Ok, let's do it," Derek gave the command and looked at Stiles expectantly.

"What, you expect me to inject myself? Are you mad?"

"That's how addicts do it."

"I can't even look at the syringe without cringing!" Stiles exclaimed, scandalized that Derek expected him to bear the burden alone. "You know I have a phobia. You do it."

"I have never done it before, what if I miss the vein and hurt you!"

Stiles huffed in irritation and then turned to his father. "Dad?"

The Sheriff glared daggers at him. "You want me to lose the badge? I shouldn't even be in the room! Let the kid do it, it was his job after all."

"I have never injected anyone!" Liam protested waving his hands.

"Oh for God's sake, give it to me," Kira snapped. "You all act like children! Lie down, Stiles," she ordered, taking the syringe and sitting down next to him. Her confidence was somewhat comforting. Stiles hoped it meant that she _had_ done this before.

The initial pinch was accompanied by a feeling of nausea. Stiles wasn't sure whether it was his reaction to the dreaded needle, or it was the substance giving him a bad trip. But after a couple seconds the nausea was replaced with a feeling of euphoria and intense pleasure.

"Fuck yeah!" Stiles exhaled, closing his eyes for a second in utter delight. He felt warm and fuzzy, calm and content, all his worries and concerns gone, his problems insignificant.

"Stiles? Are you ok?" came Derek's voice through the fog of pleasure.

He opened his eyes and looked at the Alpha. "I love you. This is awesome. I love you so much. God, this is great! Did I tell you how much I…"

Derek's cheeks reddened. He was so gorgeous. Why was he so gorgeous? Stiles could look at that face forever.

"You shouldn't speak. Just try to relax," Derek told him, looking so adorably flustered.

"You are blushing so prettily. You are so handsome. Dad, isn't Derek handsome?" Stiles exclaimed, sitting up on the sofa.

Somebody laughed. It was Liam. God, he loved Liam. He was such a nice kid.

"Will he be ok?" the Sheriff asked, looking between Kira and Derek. It was so sweet that his dad was concerned for him. He had the best dad in the world.

"This should last for 15 minutes or so," Kira replied calmly. Stiles grinned at her. Asians were great!

His mouth was dry and for whatever reason, it felt awesome! "I'm thirsty," he said with a goofy smile.

"Here," Derek handed him a glass of water. He was so considerate. Stiles was so lucky to have him.

"You are the best!" Stiles hugged his husband fiercely, forgetting about the water. "I was in love with you the moment I saw you save that kid on the elevator. You were so fast and you smelled so heavenly. Well, you always smell heavenly. I swear! Come sniff him, Kira!"

Derek detached Stiles from himself and thrust a glass of water into his hand. He remembered that Stiles was thirsty. Derek was such a caring person.

"Perhaps we should just gag him," the Alpha said, grimacing.

"Oh yes!" Stiles jumped at the idea. "Let's try that! And maybe this time you could blindfold me too, tie me to bed and use that flogger again! I'll call you Da-"

Derek pressed a palm against his mouth muzzling him. Oh, they must have already started! Derek was so kinky! He will call him Daddy this time. This was so exciting!

"I think I'll go take a walk or something," his dad muttered, avoiding eye contact. He must have felt the need to give them some privacy for their playing. How nice of him! Stiles wanted to thank him and tell him how much he loved him, but Derek was still muzzling his mouth. He was such a Daddy.

"Sorry. Take Liam and Kira with you as well, please." Derek had a pained expression on his face. He must have been dying for some alone time to get kinky with Stiles. Stiles couldn't wait to change that expression to the one of pleasure. Derek looked so gorgeous when he came. Stiles wanted him to be happy. Like he was happy. They were just perfect for each other!

When the door closed leaving them alone, Derek finally took away his hand and glared at Stiles. He was so good at playing the stern Daddy, Stiles's belly fluttered with anticipation.

"Great job, Stiles! If I knew you will jump straight to social suicide I would have gagged you _before _giving you drugs," the Alpha growled.

So authentic! So on point! Stiles loved roleplay!

"Don't be mad at me, Daddy!" he giggled, totally flopping his wannabe-guilty performance.

"And I can't even be mad at you, because you are doing this for me," Derek shook his head with a resigned expression.

"That's because I love you," Stiles purred, straddling Derek's lap and attempting to kiss him, but Derek pushed him face down on the sofa and landed a single firm smack to his bottom. "Ow, Daddy!" Stiles exclaimed, rubbing his butt with a joyful grin.

"Now if you want to be a good boy for Daddy, you are gonna lie down and stay quiet. And if you do that for the next twenty minutes then Daddy will reward you by not killing you once you come off your high."

Derek was so funny. Stiles wanted to be good for Derek. He closed his eyes, content to just lie there and enjoy the feeling.

...

Shooting heroin was not as fun as Stiles thought it was gonna be. His high was over within a few minutes, but he felt sleepy and drowsy for hours after he became fully aware of what the fuck he was blabbering while he was stoned. The feeling was not going away, so he fell asleep right there on the couch, hoping he will forget the humiliating shit he professed in front of Liam, Kira, and (for fuck's sake) his dad.

He woke up a few hours later, and the blissful unawareness lasted for the whole of one second before he remembered his behavior and groaned into the pillow in embarrassment.

"Now _that _sounds just about right," Derek noted from the armchair, putting away his notebook.

"Kill me now," Stiles moaned, face still hidden in the pillow.

"Tempting offer. How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok... well maybe slightly suicidal. What do you think are the odds they will forget everything I said?"

"I think your dad is already working on it. Kira doesn't care. Liam will give you hell."

"Awesome," Stiles grumbled. "And you?" He finally dared a glance at his boyfriend and was relieved to find Derek with an amused expression.

"I learned that it was love on the first sight, that I look and smell heavenly and that my boyfriend is a clingy koala bear with a Daddy kink, so essentially - nothing new."

"Thanks for rubbing it in."

"Anytime," Derek smirked at him. "Now what did you say about the blindfold?"

* * *

xxx

Stiles couldn't help feeling nervous the next day during the group session. Derek told him several times to calm down and to act normal, and reminded him that he will only give the urine sample and nothing else was going to happen. Stiles understood all that but still kept fidgeting the whole time.

Kira promised them that she will "learn" about the opioids in his urine on Sunday and make sure to have Douglas hear about it too. Which meant that on Monday Liam could confidently bring the flash disk to Deucalion. They decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. So Liam's story would be that he stole it from Peter, which should explain why he was unsuccessful for months hanging around Derek's home.

As expected, the group session went without incident and Stiles calmed down. Perhaps everything _will_ go as it should. How cool would it be to have HIS plan ultimately work out for Derek and bring justice and closure after years of fruitless attempts to learn the truth and punish the people responsible? Stiles's chest filled with pleasure and self-pride. Definitely something to throw in Derek's face whenever the Alpha became too overbearing or called Stiles a moron. Not that Stiles took issue with name-calling, he kinda got used to it, but at least now he will be a moron who saved the day.

On second thought, Stiles might have been too hasty to start celebrating.

...

On Monday morning as he was cataloguing the results of the recent experiment, two police officers entered the lab. Stiles knew right away they were there for him and his heart sank all the way to the ground.

"Stiles Stilinski?" one of the officers asked. "You are under arrest for drug possession. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

Stiles listened to the rest of his Miranda rights in a cold sweat. This couldn't be happening. This _shouldn't_ be happening. Kira said the hearing will be in two weeks. Why? How? Oh, God.

Stiles was handcuffed right there in front of everyone and escorted outside. He didn't try to resist. This was embarrassing enough as it was. He felt like throwing up but held it in with sheer willpower. Now was not the time to freak out. Drug possession meant that they found more than just opioids in his urine, he certainly didn't need to appear guilty on top of that.

The drive to the police station was a quiet affair as Stiles decided to exercise his right to remain silent. His panic increased tenfold when he realized that he was not brought to the police station but to the Baker correctional facility.

"What is going on? Why did you bring me here?" he asked the officers.

The younger of the two shrugged. "Sergeant Davidson will fill you in. Let's go."

Stiles was taken to the processing room and left alone for 20 minutes or so. He tried really hard to keep his shit together and analyze the situation, but nothing he came up with looked particularly promising.

Sergeant Davidson seemed like a slimy bastard right on the first sight - slightly overweight with a mullet popular in the early 90s and nasty spiteful expression. The way he smiled gave Stiles creeps. He sat down opposite of him and opened what Stiles assumed was his BRP file.

"Mie… Miecz… damn, Stilinski, your folks must have hated you," he sneered.

"I want to call my lawyer." Stiles was proud of how even and calm his voice came out because inside he was feeling anything but.

"I want to have sex with Angelina Jolie, but alas…"

"I won't answer anything without my lawyer."

"Fine with me, as I have no questions for you," Davidson shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk. "I'm just here to process you and send you to your cell."

Stiles's stomach twisted at those words. "My cell?" There should be at least half a dozen steps between an arrest and a prison cell.

"Opioids in your urine, 20 grams of heroin in your car, and another 2 pounds in your apartment. You've waived your right for a trial by signing off to the Beta Rehabilitation Program, so here you are, ready to start your lovely 3-year vacation at Baker correctional facility."

Stiles' vision blurred, the familiar ringing in the ears accompanied by severe nausea was a sign of an approaching panic attack. He took a deep breath trying to remember the clause about waiving the right to a trial in the BRP contract, but he had a hard time remembering his own name, much less the document he signed months ago.

"They read me my Miranda rights, why would they if I was going straight to jail?"

"Force of habit."

Ok, he really wanted to throw up now. "I want my phone call."

"Don't worry, sugar, your father will be notified eventually."

Stiles has had enough of this. "I have rights!" He snapped, standing up. "You have no…"

A blow to his kidneys silenced that argument. Stiles let out a pained groan and glared at the sergeant. The asshole knew exactly where to strike for it not to show. He also seemed entirely unphased about the presence of the camera in the top corner of the room, which was not a good sign.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Stiles was a fast learner. He kept his mouth shut, while the sergeant filled out the paperwork. This was not good.

Afterward, Stiles was taken to the medical, where he was asked some standard questions without anyone actually touching him. They mostly cared if he was on drugs or some medication and since Stiles wasn't, that part was over fairly quickly.

The next step was picture taking. He was brought to a small room and his heart jumped when he saw Derek having his pictures taken. Stiles almost cried with relief. He shouldn't be happy about Derek being there, but he couldn't help it. He was scared shitless, the idea of going to prison was terrifying. Knowing Derek will be there brought an overwhelming sense of comfort.

As luck would have it sergeant asshole got a phone call and stepped outside leaving Stiles and Derek alone with a photographer. Stiles rushed to Derek and fell in his embrace. It was kind of an awkward hug, what with both of them in handcuffs, but they managed.

"Oh my God, Derek, they set us up, they put the drugs in…"

"Stiles, calm down and listen to me," Derek cut him off urgently. "Angela called Peter as soon as they took us. I'm sure he called your dad and they are already working on getting us out of here. But till they do that I need you to stay put. Stick to your cell as much as possible, don't call attention to yourself. Be quiet, unless somebody speaks to you, stay polite but don't show fear. Don't make friends and don't make enemies. And god forbid you run your mouth, Stilinski. This is not the time nor place to show everyone how smart you are. And most importantly - do NOT go looking for me. They will likely try to get rid of me while I'm here. The further you are from me the safer."

"But…"

"This is _not_ a negotiation Stiles! Do you understand what you have to do?"

"Yes, stay put, stay quiet, stay away from you," Stiles parroted, trying not to feel hurt by Derek's severe tone. "I'm scared."

The firm lines on Derek's face immediately softened. "It's going to be ok, baby. We will get…"

The door opened and Derek walked past him without a second glance. Stiles took a deep breath trying to blink away the tears and swallow through the lump in his throat. He couldn't fall apart now. He would look bad on his pictures.

Chuckling at his own morbid humor he managed to go through the following procedures with a level-headed attitude. Till he reached the strip-search station and a huge scary-looking dude poured a hefty portion of vaseline on his gloved palm. Stiles totally forgot about _that_ part of the admittance procedure. His butt cheeks clenched with trepidation.

Ok, perhaps now was high time to start freaking out.

* * *

_TBC_

_Just in case it wasn't obvious, the last part hinted at the anal cavity search. (not rape or anything like that)_

_Also, I have no experience with heroin (or drugs in general), and I certainly don't endorse drug use. I googled what heroin high felt like and wrote the scene purely for comedy. (I kept laughing as I wrote it, so I hope you enjoyed 'high Stiles' too;))_


	24. Prison - part 1

_Author's note: For those curious, Russian translations are at the end of the chapter._

* * *

Prison. As much as Stiles knew about law enforcement, his expertise ended at the moment of arrest. What did he really know about prison? Let's see.

\- Stick to your race.

\- Everything can be turned into a weapon.

\- The soap thing.

Hmm… Not much. Stiles wished he was more savvy, more prepared, more curious. But now it was too late. Without his phone, he couldn't exactly google tips & tricks on how to survive in jail.

The strip-search served as the breaking point when the realization finally sank in. Stiles was a convict. This was happening. He tried to persuade himself that it was just a prostate exam (not that he ever had one), but he couldn't help feeling violated. At least the guy didn't take pleasure in it. He didn't try to be gentle or soothe Stiles with words of comfort - it was 'bend over and drop your pants', and despite it being uncomfortable and humiliating, it didn't hurt and it was over fairly quickly.

Stiles tried to appear confident and calm as he was led to his cell, but he wasn't sure how good of a performance he was putting on. He wanted to cry, crawl up in a ball, and sob his heart out. He could do none of those things, so he held his head high and kept his eyes on the officer in front of him to avoid looking at anyone. There were a couple of whoops and whistles which Stiles desperately tried to ignore even though they made his skin prickle with dread.

The cells were lined in 3 floors in a square-shaped block with an open space area in the middle. Stiles's cell was number 215, on the second floor close to the staircase. He had no idea whether it was good or bad. He settled on 'not bad'. The room was empty, which was unexpected but SUCH a relief. How lucky was he not to have a cellmate? Even so, the first thing that hit him was just how small it was - to the point of claustrophobic. It never looked so small in the movies.

There was a bunk bed, a chair with a shelf screwed into the wall representing a small table, toilet, and a sink. At least the two were separated. Stiles heard of prisons where it was one thing and he would rather not drink toilet water.

He sat on the bed and stared at the wall. Three years. No way. His dad will get him out. Derek said they were already working on it. Stiles will be here a day or two and that's it. He just had to make it through today. One hour at a time. One minute at a time. One breath at a time. In and out. Nice and easy. In and out.

He wiped a tear from his cheek, but more sprung out from his eyes. So much for staying strong. Couldn't even stop the useless sniveling. And not just useless. Dangerous. Stiles glanced outside, half expecting to see a bunch of bloodthirsty inmates ready to jump him and punish him for his weakness. But no one was there.

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself and pull yourself together! Think about something else._

The irony. He chose BRP to avoid prison. And ended up here anyway. They both did. Even though he was forbidden to go looking for Derek, just the fact that he was there brought him comfort. What would Derek do if he was here right now? He would hug him for sure. Derek got so much better at showing affection lately. Even confessed his feelings for Stiles. That was arguably the happiest Stiles ever felt in his life. He replayed the scene in his memory and smiled.

...

After two hours spent staring at the ceiling and drooling over Derek, a prison guard came to see him.

"Stilinski. Get up, you have a visitor."

Stiles's heart fluttered as relief mixed with trepidation. He both wanted and not wanted to see his dad. He knew he was innocent, but just the fact that a son of the Sheriff landed himself in prison was embarrassing.

However, the person waiting for him in the visiting room was not his dad.

"Peter?"

"Stiles," the Alpha greeted him and then smirked. "Orange becomes you."

"Thanks. I was really worried about that," Stiles deadpanned. "What are you doing here? Have you spoken to my dad? Did you get us a lawyer? Am I getting out? Is Derek ok? How did they plant the drugs? Is..."

Peter grimaced at the flood of questions. "If you are going to be this annoying, you won't survive a day in here."

"Stop deflecting, I'm serious."

"So am I." Stiles gave him an impatient look and Peter raised his palms in surrender. "I don't know how they got the drugs into your car or apartment, but the security camera should have caught it. There is also a chance they didn't do it at all and fabricated the evidence, given how quickly they made the arrest."

That made sense. For one, Davidson certainly didn't look like the by-the-book guy. Derek and Peter were rightfully skeptical about the police in Baker. A corrupt prosecutor and a corrupt judge wouldn't be unlikely. Arrest first, cook evidence later. "Ok, so what now? Did you tell my dad? Got a lawyer?"

"Yes, I got a lawyer and several PIs working on it. I haven't told your dad yet."

Stiles frowned. "Why not?"

"Because he is busy making sure the plan we put in motion works out and all this is not for nothing."

"He would wanna know that his son is in jail."

"And he will." Peter lost his smirk, his voice getting a steely edge. "Right now his priority is Liam's safety. It's not so long ago that you actually cared about that part and not just about your pretty little ass."

Stiles immediately deflated, dropping his gaze in shame. He was complaining about being in prison for a few hours while Liam was risking his life dealing with mafia. When did he become such an egoist? "Sorry." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm kinda freaking out."

Peter squeezed his shoulder awkwardly. They haven't exactly developed a cordial relationship but Stiles appreciated the gesture nonetheless. "Understandable. But rest easy, I got you protection. A new cellmate. He will keep you safe."

Stiles's eyes lit up. "You got Derek transferred to my cell?!"

"No. Derek will be able to protect himself better if he doesn't have to worry about you, so I got you a babysitter."

"A _what _now?"

"He is an experienced con, big, bulky, and doesn't speak English. Perfect for you."

Stiles grimaced. He was rather enjoying having the cell all to himself, he didn't need a company of a convict. And he certainly didn't need a babysitter. "Yeah, I'm not sure if that…"

"You'll be fine. Just do as you're told and don't get on his nerves." Peter stood up patting Stiles on the shoulder a couple times. "I have to go now. Stay safe."

"Wait. How long will I be here? Did you see Derek?"

"Derek's fine. We will get you out. Be good."

And he was gone. And Stiles was alone again. Peter's visit didn't feel as reassuring as Stiles hoped it was going to be. Oh well… time to meet the babysitter.

* * *

xxx

_Oh shut the front door! _

Stiles did a double-check whether he was at the correct cell. There on _his_ bed sat a fucking ogre. A behemoth. A blond, scary version of Hagrid. If Ser Gregor Clegane and Hulk Hogan had a baby… well, you get my point.

"Ty Michislav?" the dude asked when Stiles failed to enter, hovering by the door in horror.

"Huh?"

"Pol'sha?" the con pointed at him.

Stiles' brain finally wired up under the emergency mode. "Name is Polish. I'm American. Stiles."

"Budesh Slavka," the guy waved his hand with a smile. Stiles wasn't sure, but he had a feeling he had just been renamed. "This is prison. You nickname Slava," the giant confirmed.

The thick Russian accent was giving away his babysitter's nationality but Stiles figured it would be safer to ask than to assume and die a painful death for guessing wrong. "And what's your name? Where are you from?"

"Ya Mikhail. Mishka. Little bear. Here nickname Big Russian." The guy extended his not-so-little bear paw for a handshake. Stiles prepared to have his fingers broken but didn't dare to refuse.

It hurt. He survived.

"So you want to be on the bottom, right?" Stiles asked, trying to make small talk. "I mean the bed of course, not that you would... I mean I don't care what you prefer, everything is fine with me. No. NO!" he waved his hands in panic, "That's not what I meant. I am taken. You are perfectly good looking and all, but my heart already belongs to somebody else. No hard feelings... I'll shut up now."

_Fuck. _Stiles wasn't sure whether the fact that Mishka kept smiling was a good thing or whether he had last seconds to live.

"I no understand."

_Thank fucking God._ Stiles gave him a sheepish smile. Perhaps Peter was right about the language barrier being a good thing. What was he thinking anyway? Not like the top bunk could support those 300 pounds of flesh.

"You new." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. "You obey - you okay. Ponyatno? Eto… kak ego tam… Understand?" His tone was friendly. The Russian didn't try to intimidate him. Not that he had to, he was intimidating by default. An Alpha without a question. You would hardly find such a build on a Beta.

"Yes," Stiles nodded, wondering if he had to add some kind of honorific in a show of respect. He would much rather pretend that he was Mishka's client than his bitch.

Thankfully, the man didn't correct him. "How old?" he asked.

"I'm twenty."

"Heh, shchenok," the Alpha chuckled.

"What's that?"

"Shchenok eto… nu eto…" he scratched his head searching for the word, "Dog, little dog."

"Like chihuahua?"

"No. Young little dog," Mikhail clarified, gesticulating with his hands.

"Puppy?"

"Vo, tochno - puppy! You puppy." The way he pronounced it, it sounded more like "papi" (Spanish for daddy) and Stiles couldn't help smiling. As far as formidable cons went, so far this one seemed surprisingly friendly.

...

For the next hour or so the two chatted about dogs and cats (Stiles figured it was a safe topic). Though 'chatted' was a strong word as Mishka's limited vocabulary made it quite a challenge. Big Russian (or Big-R) was 40 years old, he came from some small town in Russia called Narofominsk and he liked dogs. He did teach Stiles a couple words and phrases in Russian and Stiles's anxiety over prison somewhat abated. He didn't feel like crying anymore and once he established that his bodyguard didn't intend to do him bodily harm he started to relax around him a bit.

They kept a perfectly friendly tone up until Stiles got off the chair to go out for the yard time. Big-R caught him by the arm and raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

"I'll go outside for a bit."

The grip on Stiles's biceps didn't ease up. "No."

"Well, you should probably come with me," Stiles agreed. He wanted to go outside because Derek might be there.

"No."

"I'll just go for a bit and…" Stiles tried to gently remove the restraining hand, but the grip only tightened.

"No. You stay." This time the firm tone left no doubt that it was not a suggestion but an order.

Stiles felt the frustration build up on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it before he said something he might regret. "Ok." He sat back down and tried to keep his voice and face from showing attitude.

"Good. You obey - you okay. You no obey - big punishment. Understand?"

Great. As if he didn't have enough bossy Alphas in his life already. Be as it may, Stiles had no desire to find out what Mishka considered a big punishment. Fuck Peter and his good intentions.

"Ponyatno," Stiles nodded, showing off his newfound Russian knowledge to score some points.

Mishka let go of his arm and patted his shoulder with his heavy hand. "Molotok. Voz'mi s polki pirozhok," he said approvingly. Stiles guessed it was some kind of praise.

"What's kirozhok?"

"Pi-ro-zhok. Pie. Good job, go take pie from shelf."

Stiles had no idea what it meant. Was pie a code for something? Or maybe it was some Russian proverb, the meaning of which he didn't get. One thing was clear though. Stiles was stuck in the cell.

...

He wasn't even surprised when Big-R didn't let him go for the dinner either and the food was brought to the cell by a guard. Apparently protection that Peter arranged for meant zero freedom for Stiles.

All Stiles' requests were met with the same answer - "No". No to the shower, no to the walk, no to attending any meals at the dining hall, no to work assignments, no to the library or recreation center, no to anything and everything.

At first, Stiles didn't dare to argue. But as time went, being caged inside the tiny room was getting increasingly bothersome. Mikhail wasn't particularly talkative and Stiles spent most of the time inside his own head. By the end of the third day, his self-preservation instincts started to get overshadowed by his need to get the hell out of there.

"You can't keep me here!" he snapped. "I need to stretch my legs. I need to breathe fresh air. I need a fucking shower. And actually, _you_ need a fucking shower as well!"

"No. You stay," Big-R said calmly.

_Same shit every fucking time!_

Stiles glanced at the door, trying to calculate if he could make it without being caught. But Mikhail read his mind and blocked his exit before Stiles even tried.

"Let me go! Or come with me, but I'm not spending another minute in here!"

"No."

Stiles felt his temper boil. "Move!"

"No."

"For fuck's sake!" Stiles tried to squeeze past him but to no avail. The guy was a fucking mountain. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me GO!"

"Prekrati isteriku," Mishka said firmly.

Stiles didn't know what it meant but he could guess that his bodyguard was not happy with him. Even so, his temper got the better of him. "Speak fucking English!"

"Schitayu do trekh. Raz."

"Let me go!"

"Dva."

The warning tone gave Stiles a hint as to what Mishka was saying, but Stiles refused to back down. "Help! HELP!" he yelled over him, trying to attract the attention of the guards.

The Russian rolled his eyes completely unphased. "Tri," he said simply as he took Stiles by the ear and dragged him to the corner of the room placing his nose in it. "Budesh stoyat' v uglu, poka ne uspokoish'sya."

Stiles had no doubt that he was being scolded. His face went crimson with rage and humiliation. He tried to turn around but Mishka grabbed him by the scruff and forced his nose back in the corner.

"Ne zli menya, shchenok," the Russian growled. "A to vyseku, malo ne pokazhet'sya."

Tears welled in Stiles's eyes. "I don't know what you're saying."

"Stay or I beat you."

Stiles figured it was something of the sort. Feeling cornered and powerless, tears spilled on his cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. He didn't try to turn away anymore and Mikhail let go of his neck and sat down on the bed.

"Everything ok in here?" Stiles heard somebody ask. He recognized the voice of the guard who kept bringing them food to the cell. Whatever arrangement Peter had with Mikhail, this guard was in on it. And even if it was some other guard, Stiles knew that snitching in prison was the fastest route to the grave.

"We good," Big-R said.

The guard lingered probably waiting to see if Stiles disagreed. Stiles most certainly did disagree. He was anything but good. He was in prison! Caged in this tiny cell with an overbearing Russian Alpha size of a mountain troll. And he couldn't do shit about it.

A sob ripped through his throat as he heard the guard slowly walk away. Out of all the things one could experience in prison, being put in the corner was hardly the most traumatic one, and yet it felt like the end of the world. It was as childish as it was humiliating. Anyone walking by could see Stiles standing in the corner like an unruly kid. He hated it. He hated it all.

Why was he even still here? He thought he would be out the next day, two days max. Nobody even came to see him! Why hasn't his dad come yet? Why hasn't Derek? Did no one really care?

Stiles's shoulders shook with quiet sobs, as he cried his misery in the corner feeling utterly pathetic. The more he cried, the more humiliated he felt, but he couldn't seem to stop it. This was so unfair. He didn't belong here. He didn't know what to do with himself. He was going crazy. Was everyone ok? Did something happen to Liam? He had no way of knowing. Hell, he wouldn't know even if something happened to Derek, because he was stuck to this stupid cell. And now he was stuck to this stupid corner!

"Nu che? Uspokoilsya?" Big-R asked and when Stiles failed to answer clarified, "You done?"

_Yes, I'm done with you. Done with this prison. Done with everything._

"I won't run away," he said instead, trying to get a grip on his emotions.

"Lan, ne revi. Idi syuda," Mishka's voice came out way softer this time. "Come."

Stiles stumbled away from the corner, embarrassed to show his tear-streaked face but unable to do anything about it. Mikhail sat him on the chair and produced a paper tissue (god knows where from). Stiles wiped his face and blew his nose, stealing a careful glance at his captor. Big-R didn't look angry or annoyed. He didn't smile or frown, there was no judgment in his expression. It wasn't exactly compassion, perhaps understanding would be a better word.

"Here safe, there no safe, kak ego tam… dangerous," Mikhail said placatingly.

_Ye, no shit sherlock. _"I really need a shower. And I need to go out. Do something. Exercise, play cards, watch tv, wash dishes, or whatever people do in prisons. I mean if I knew I'm getting out tomorrow, then sure, I'd sit here, suck on my thumb, and wait it out, but I don't _know _that. I'm here for 3 fucking years!"

More tears spilled and Stiles automatically reached for another paper tissue. Mishka probably didn't understand most of what he said, but he must have gotten the general gist. Stiles was pretty sure that his babysitter's task was to keep him alive, not happy. Still, he didn't expect to be denied basic human needs.

"Ladno, ladno. Vse, ugovoril." Big-R waved his hand in defeat. "Budet tebe dush."

Stiles recognized the word dush. "Shower?" he asked with hope.

"Yes. Later."

Stiles's lips stretched in a tentative smile. Well, who would have thought, the Russian wasn't completely heartless after all. Stiles couldn't wait to get out of that room. Just as long as he didn't drop the soap he should be fine, right?

* * *

_TBC_

_I hope the foreign language wasn't too disruptive for the flow. I tried to hint at the general idea of what was being said so that you wouldn't have to scroll back and forth all the time. Anyway, here are the translations:_

Ty Michislav? - Are you Mieczyslaw?

Pol'sha? - Poland?

Budesh Slavka - You will be Slavka. (Slava/Slavka a common diminutive for the names which end on "slav", e.g. Vladislav, Rostislav, Bronislav, Vyachislav, Stanislav, etc.)

Misha/Mishka - a common way to name bears. The stuffed bear is also "mishka".

Ponyatno? - Is it understood? (without question mark - "it is understood")

Eto… kak ego tam… - That... what it's called... (a filler you use when you try to remember a word)

Vo, tochno - Yes, exactly

Molotok. Voz'mi s polki pirozhok - Good boy. Go take a pie from the shelf. (often used in a sarcastic way - you acknowledge the good deed but also make a point that there will be no reward)

Prekrati isteriku - Stop the hysterics

Schitayu do trekh. Raz. Dva. Tri. - I'm counting to three. One. Two. Three.

Budesh stoyat' v uglu, poka ne uspokoish'sya. - You will stand in the corner till you calm down.

Ne zli menya, shchenok. A to vyseku, malo ne pokazhet'sya. - Don't make me angry, puppy, or I'll whip you, it won't feel like not enough. (meaning - I'll whip you good)

Nu che? Uspokoilsya? - Well? Have you calmed down?

Lan, ne revi. Idi syuda. - Alright, don't cry. Come here.

Ladno, ladno. Vse, ugovoril. Budet tebe dush. - Alright. Alright. You persuaded me. You will have your shower.


	25. Prison - part 2

_Author's note: Russian translations at the end again._

* * *

The shower trip ended up being entirely anticlimactic. Mikhail called a guard after the 'lights out' and quietly talked to him through the door. Stiles heard numbers being thrown around and figured the two were bargaining the price.

Apparently the Russian felt more comfortable paying the guard some extra for a private shower time than to risk doing it during the day. Stiles didn't think that anyone would try anything when such a badass con was watching his back, but what did he know, really? Not like he was going to complain about extra privacy.

The downside was that there was no chance he would see Derek cause everyone was securely locked in their cells. But since Mishka caved to the shower, perhaps he would cave to at least one meal at the dining hall too.

Stiles let the water caress his face and moaned in pleasure. Who would have thought that something so basic could be so satisfying once withheld for a couple of days? There was another thing that was completely neglected since Stiles got in prison. Not that it was a surprise, since this was the first time Stiles was alone, even if the solitude was artificial behind the privacy curtain of the shower stall. Stiles's thoughts immediately turned to his hot boyfriend and the blood rushed to his lower regions. He had needs, ok? He was young and sexually active and, God, he missed Derek. Stiles palmed his rapidly enlarging cock and…

"Tooool'ko! Ryumka vodkiii na stoleee," he heard Mishka's roar echoing in the bathroom. The Russian was one of those 'shower singers'. He wasn't entirely off tune (not that Stiles knew what the correct tune was) but he was too loud for Stiles' liking. Stiles cringed through the over the top chorus and was quite happy to hear the song end.

_Now, where was I? Right, Derek's hands on my…_

"Ya svobodeeeen, slovno ptitsa v nebesakh," Big-R started another song. Stiles tried to purge the infuriating singing from his focus, but Mishka's strident voice kept invading his masturbation fantasies. He gave up completely when Mikhail changed his repertoire to Cranberries - Zombie, botching the majority of the lyrics, making up words, and slowly pushing Stiles to commit murder. Or at least to gag the pestiferous Russian.

His mood killed, his erection gone, the shower didn't feel as wonderful anymore.

...

It took an entire day of whining, bargaining, and pleading to get Mishka to allow Stiles to attend dinner outside. After a gazillion of "no", three threats of "big punishment" and a couple curse words which Stiles was (as any gamer) actually familiar with, the Russian finally gave in.

It was the first time Stiles was outside among other inmates. Having Mikhail by his side made him feel much more comfortable and secure than he otherwise would. The Russian commanded respect with his presence alone. Nobody tried to approach or speak to Stiles. Mikhail got a couple of polite greetings but mostly, people tried to avoid making eye contact with him. Stiles figured it meant the giant wasn't as friendly as he appeared to be with him. Peter must have been paying him really well.

The dining hall was full of people, Stiles automatically started scanning the crowd in search for Derek, but couldn't see him anywhere. Mishka kept issuing quiet orders of mixed Russian and English to move here or there, but he refrained from openly manhandling him, which Stiles was grateful for.

They sat down at the empty table and no one attempted to join them. Mikhail reprimanded Stiles several times to stop looking around, claiming that "this no zoo". Stiles obeyed but only because he finally spotted the object of his interest.

Orange was not Derek's color, but who the hell cared? He looked like he was there to make a prison commercial or something. Stiles was not the only one with eyes glued to Derek's handsome face. Many (in fact - too many) guys were checking him out. And not just warily trying to assess the danger. No, this was a very different kind of interest that Derek apparently inspired everywhere he went. Even prison.

_Oh well… that's what you get when you date an obnoxiously good-looking Alpha._

Derek was his usual unamused grumpy I-hate-everyone self, which was probably the only reason no one was groping him yet. He was sitting on the other side of the hall and clearly hadn't noticed Stiles. At least Stiles hoped that was the reason why he kept ignoring him, his eyes never even grazing him, despite Stiles' subtle (and some not-so-subtle) attempts to be spotted. Here he was, missing Derek like crazy and Derek didn't even bother to check if Stiles was there. They haven't seen each other in so long! The longest ever since they met!

_Come on. Notice me senpai!_

However as if on purpose Derek didn't look in his direction whatsoever. Instead, he did something completely inexcusable that made Stiles' stomach twist unpleasantly - he smiled. And now he _laughed?!_ At some lowlife convict, that he had no business smiling at! If it was anyone else, Stiles wouldn't have placed any importance on it. But this was Derek - Derek didn't smile, and he most certainly didn't laugh unless he was relaxed and among people, he felt comfortable with. Stiles always prided himself to be the main cause the Alpha started to let himself loose more often.

And now Derek acted this way towards somebody that wasn't Stiles. It stung. Stiles got off his chair and went to stake his claim like an insecure jealous boyfriend (that he totally was at the moment). His mission was cut short before he made as much as a step in Derek's direction.

"Kuda!" Mishka growled, catching him by the shoulder and forcibly planting him back to the chair.

"I… uhm," Stiles pointed towards Derek and hoped that it explained everything. He flushed realizing that he shouldn't be drawing attention to himself. Sure he wanted Derek to see him, but he knew he was not allowed to approach him even if he didn't have a babysitter breathing down his neck.

"Sit and eat or we go back," Mikhail said sternly. "Look in plate!" he added when Stiles glanced around to see if Derek was watching him. He wasn't and Stiles felt hurt by Derek's lack of interest. The next time he raised his gaze to check on him, the Alpha wasn't there anymore.

And he wasn't there for any of the following meals Stiles took at the dining hall.

* * *

xxx

The days dragged at the snail speed. Even though Stiles had two events to look forward to each day - the meal and the shower, they became just as mundane by the third day. Mishka didn't cave to any other out-of-the-cell activity no matter how much Stiles begged. The only thing it got Stiles was some quality time in the corner, which after an hour became a considerably worse alternative to lying quietly in his bed (as he was told to do) and after two hours Stiles learned to keep his mouth shut.

Stiles wasn't exactly despairing, but the lack of news and outside contact was gnawing at him with each passing day (if not hour). Finally, on the 7th day, the guard announced that he had a visitor.

_About fucking time!_

Stiles fought a mild irritation when he saw that it was Peter again. However, Peter's joyful expression filled him with hope.

"We got them!" Peter cheered instead of hello. He opened his arms and Stiles didn't think twice before falling in his embrace. Peter might not have been the person he would want to celebrate with, but after spending every day with a taciturn Russian convict, he could definitely use a hug.

"It worked?!" Stiles exclaimed happily.

"We got Douglas, and the bastard turned on the big fish to save his own ass. He is being interrogated as we speak. If everything goes fast we should be able to get you out tomorrow!"

"Fuck YES! Oh my God, I love you!" Stiles jumped, fisting the air enthusiastically. "Have you spoken to Derek? Is everyone ok? Dad? Liam? Why did no one come to visit?!"

"You are in prison, genius. You can't have visitations every day." Ye, okay, that was kinda obvious. Stiles felt stupid for not realizing it. Peter pulled him in another one-armed hug. "Everyone is fine. I'm meeting Derek right after. All you have to do is hang in there for a bit longer. Sit tight and don't get into any trouble and you will be out before you know it."

"Sure," Stiles said sheepishly, too busy being happy to dwell on his stupidity. He was so excited to see everyone again. He didn't expect to miss them so much. After all, he only spent a week here, but it felt like ages. He couldn't wait to kiss Derek, hang out with Liam or cuddle Ruby... _oh fuck!_ "Oh my God! Ruby! I totally forgot about her!"

Peter raised his palms before Stiles went into full-blown hysteria. "Relax, your cat is fine. I got the whole lecture from Derek on dry and wet food, her favorite cat litter, and the importance of daily brushing," Peter reassured him, rolling his eyes in the process. "Yukimura is taking care of her."

Uf. At least Derek was responsible enough to remember about their pet. Well, not like Stiles went to prison every day, he had other stuff on his mind at the time - he was too busy freaking out. "How did they get us arrested so fast?"

"Apparently they didn't even bother with planting the actual drugs, just did some quick photoshop work and presented it to the judge to put you two away. I got another offer from Blast Pharmaceuticals 2 days ago. My guess is that the information of collaboration with Mason Palmer leaked and somebody pressed them to tie all the loose ends, so they needed to quickly get Derek out of the picture for the acquisition. But we will see what Douglas gives us. There's FBI involved now, so he is being milked like a cow."

"I hope he accidentally falls on somebody's fist a couple times for everything he's done to Liam," Stiles grumbled. Douglas was a sleazy self-serving motherfucker. Stiles was not even surprised that he turned on Deucalion and Palmer as soon as things went south.

"The boy has been taken by the Child Protective Services," Peter said with an apologetic expression.

Stiles knew that this outcome was inevitable. Liam must have known it too. His uncle was the only living relative he had. He might have been toxic, abusive, and neglectful, but he was family. And now Liam was orphaned anew. Stiles hoped that he would be there to soften the fall but… oh well. The boy was tough. Soon to be Alpha. However mean the kids in the system could be, they had nothing on Deucalion's gang. Liam will be fine.

"He is a smart kid, he will be fine," Peter said, reading his mind. "Look, I have to go talk to Derek now. Just hold on for a little longer, ok?"

"It's fine. Now that I know that we got them, I might as well start enjoying my prison stay," Stiles quipped.

"Knock yourself out." Peter patted him on the shoulder. "In your _cell_," he added, giving Stiles a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles waved his hand at the Alpha, "As if your babysitter would let me go anywhere anyway."

"Good. I'll see you soon."

...

As Stiles walked back to his cell, he enjoyed a rare moment of being alone without the overbearing presence of the Russian. He played around with the idea of trailing off to the yard to at least get a glimpse of what it looked like but then decided that he was not curious enough to prance around without protection.

A stray sunbeam hit his eyes, blinding him for a split second and catching his attention. He glanced at the cell it came from and couldn't mistake the metallic surface of a blade that reflected the light.

The words he overheard got stuck in his head - "a present for a pretty boy". Stiles kept going, but his pulse jumped unpleasantly. Could they have been talking about Derek? I mean, who else could be called a 'pretty boy'? There was no way to know for sure. Hell, he couldn't even be sure if the "present" was literal or figurative. Maybe Derek made friends and asked to get him some kind of protection?

_Yeah. Unlikely._

_Fuck._

Stiles made an effort not to break into a jog and walk back to his cell without calling attention to himself. He might have been imagining it. Surely there were plenty of pretty boys in prison. He could be called one himself!

_Ok, that's not better. At all._

As luck would have it, Mikhail wasn't in the cell when Stiles got there. Where was the stupid Russian when he needed him?! Stiles could be totally overthinking it. He needed somebody rational to tell him if his fears were substantiated.

"Wait, man, now?" Stiles heard a harsh whisper coming from the staircase.

"No, in 30 minutes, just before the lights out," the other voice replied. Stiles had heard his fair share of muted conversations under the stairs. He rarely understood what they were about though. "Has to be today, he is getting out tomorrow."

Stiles's blood turned cold.

"Which one was it?"

"305."

Alright. Stiles was officially freaking out. He took a couple of shallow breaths and peaked out of the room, but couldn't tell anymore who was the pair that he'd overheard.

He wasn't imagining this. They were going to ambush Derek. How many fucking people could be getting out tomorrow? Stiles had to warn him! Right now! He rushed out and ran smack into Mikhail's torso in the doorway.

"Oy, Slav, ty che?" Big-R chuckled and helped to steady Stiles by the shoulders.

"Thank fucking God. Mishka, we need to go!" Stiles croaked, fighting to keep his volume low. "They are after Derek. We need to warn him!" He pulled at the Russian's hand and then tried to squeeze past him but as usual, his way was unceremoniously blocked.

"Kuda sobralsya? Otboy skoro." Mikhail patted his wrist. "Lights out soon."

"Exactly! We need to go now! My boyfriend is in danger!"

"No."

"Mishka, I'm not fucking around! This is serious! They have a knife and they are going to ambush him. We have to go. Or at least you go and I'll wait here. It's cell 305."

"No."

Stiles felt the approaching panic starting to suffocate him. "Please, please, please. For once in your life, don't do this to me! I… I.." he started gasping for air, his vision blurred.

"Tak, syad' i uspokoysya," Mikhail ordered firmly, pressing Stiles to sit on the bed. "Calm down, I keep you safe,"

That's when Stiles realized what he had to do. The clarity helped curb the approaching panic attack. He hugged his chest and squeezed it tightly, at the same time holding his breath and increasing arterial pressure to redden his face he croaked, "I can't breathe." He started wheezing and rocking his body back and forth as if in pain. "Hurts… I think I'm having a heart attack, or a panic attack, or something. Get help!" he rasped, tearing through the bedsheet with his hands.

"Blyad'," Mikhail cursed and ran out of the cell.

_And the Oscar goes to…_

Stiles didn't have time to congratulate himself on his convincing performance. He had to get out and warn Derek. He made sure Mikhail was out of sight and then quickly slipped out of his cell. He walked up the staircase to the third floor, keeping his pace slow enough not to attract unnecessary attention.

Since Stiles spent next to no time outside of his cell, navigating to the correct one took him longer than it normally would, but finally, he found the cell 305 and exhaled with relief when he saw Derek lying on the bed, reading a magazine.

The Alpha's eyes flicked to Stiles and his expression changed to a deep frown. "Stiles?! What the hell are you doing here?"

Stiles would have been hurt by such a cold welcome, but he was too anxious to care about it right now. "Derek! They are after you. They have a…"

"Get the fuck out of here!" Derek jumped off the bed pushing Stiles out of the cell none too gently.

"But…" Stiles tried to protest but Derek wouldn't hear it.

"Get back to your cell! NOW!" he barked, visibly pissed.

The reaction was not what Stiles expected. Sure, he promised Derek not to seek him out, but this was an emergency. Derek didn't even let him finish speaking, which was not only hurtful but also kinda odd. Unless Derek already knew about it and wanted to get Stiles out of the harm's way asap? Ok, that made sense.

Stiles nodded in understanding and with a last glance at Derek, he turned around to go back. He didn't make it far though. Four men walked out of the next cell and blocked his way. Before he could even peep he had a knife pressed against his throat.

"I knew the little bitch would fall for it," one of them said, leading Stiles back towards Derek's cell.

* * *

_TBC_

_(Stiles, you moron)_

_Translations:_

Tooool'ko! Ryumka vodkiii na stoleee - Just a shot of vodka on the table (Grigory Leps - Ryumka vodki - one of the most popular karaoke songs when everyone gets drunk;))

Ya svobodeeeen, slovno ptitsa v nebesakh - I'm free, like a bird in the sky (Aria - Ya svoboden - kinda fitting lyrics for prison;))

Kuda - Where (here used as in "where do you think you are going?")

Oy, Slav, ty che? - Oops, Slava (=Stiles), what are you doing?

Kuda sobralsya? Otboy skoro - Where are you going? It's lights out soon.

Tak, syad' i uspokoysya - Sit down and calm yourself.

Blyad' - literal translation is "whore". In here used as "oh fuck/shit" kind of exclamation.


	26. Alright You are mad at me

The cold steel pressing against his throat made Stiles question the perspicacity of his actions. He thought he'd overseen and overheard stuff by chance and apparently that was not the case at all. They wanted him here. He glanced around hoping somebody had seen what was going on, but the whole floor was oddly deserted. It was as if everyone knew that shit was gonna go south and didn't want anything to do with it.

Derek's jaw tightened, but that was the only tell that the Alpha was angry. He looked calm and collected, if not a bit bored.

"Not my type, but thanks for offering," he said, returning his attention to the magazine.

The men cackled. "Would you look at that! The pretty boy thinks he can bluff. Isn't that cute?" the guy with a knife asked others. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his bald head covered in prison tats and Stiles would bet money he was the one in charge, probably an Alpha. Others kept themselves one step behind, they were not as bulky and didn't give off dominant vibes.

"Cute, but not smart," one of the sidekicks agreed.

"We got your pet in here." The leader turned back to Derek, patting Stiles on the cheek. "And if you want him to keep breathing in the nearest future, you are going to be a good boy and do as I say, capiche?"

Derek's eyes flashed an angry shade of red.

"Perhaps a little demonstration is in order." The blade hit Stiles' chin, prompting him to tilt his head back. "Stay very still kiddo, or my hand might slip and hit an artery... and that would just be _messy_."

The sharp sting was followed by a warm sensation of blood leaking down his throat. Stiles stopped breathing, shutting his eyes in silent prayer. It was just a scratch, right? He started feeling lightheaded and he had no idea whether it was from the gripping fear or from the blood loss. The low growl from the other side of the cell brought him back to the present.

Derek looked scary - fists clenched, fangs out, whole body tense and ready to pounce, eyes crimson and positively murderous.

"Down boy," the asshole ordered derisively. "On your knees, face the wall, hands behind your back."

Derek sank to the floor without protest.

"Good boy," the leader cooed while two others tied Derek's wrists together with a couple of zip ties.

Stiles touched his throat. His fingers were coated in blood, but he could tell that the blade barely grazed him. He was not bleeding to death. Yet. Thank you very much.

"Let him go, I'll do what you want," Derek snarled. It didn't sound like a plea, but rather a demand. Only Derek would act all domineering while kneeling in front of a bunch of convicts.

"You see, sugar pie, we kinda want you _dead_. And it's hard to assure compliance in such cases. I'm afraid the kid will have to stay here and suffer a few more cuts before we are finished. Because I plan on making it _last_."

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! _This was bad. So bad. Stiles's thoughts were scattered all over the place, his mind completely numb.

"How much is Palmer paying you? I'll double that if you let him go right now."

"It's not all about money, Derek. I have a reputation to maintain. If I could be easily swayed by sniveling of my targets, my business would suffer. In here, loyalty still means something, you know? There are _rules_. Like keeping your hands off others' property. I mean I didn't want to make it personal, but you touched my stuff, so now I'm gonna touch yours."

With that, he grabbed Stiles by the hair, bared his throat, and cut him again. This time it was a single fast flick of the wrist, followed by sharp pain and more blood.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God. _Stiles pressed his hand against his throat, panicking. He was bleeding, he didn't know how much, but certainly more than before. He had to think of something or they will both be dead soon.

How much did they know about Derek's abilities? Probably enough not to try to take him on 4v1 and get Stiles there instead. But did they know he could relieve pain? Absorb injuries? Maybe if they could touch somehow, two of them combined could last longer? Long enough for Mikhail to figure what's up and come rescue him? That is, if the Russian even cared enough (or was paid enough) to get involved. Everyone else seemed to know to stay away.

Stiles leaned against his captor. "I'm not feeling so good," he croaked. "Maybe you could just tie me up with Derek, I don't trust to stay on my feet."

"Of course, sugar, would you like to get a cuddle too? Or a nice soft pillow to make you comfy?" the Alpha sneered, his breath tickling Stiles's ears.

Alright, there went that plan. They were gonna die here. Stiles felt sick. "I'm gonna throw up," he warned them out of some misguided sense of courtesy before the retching reflex took over. With a knife pressed against his throat, he couldn't exactly bend over, as his natural body response would demand, instead he turned to the side to avoid impaling himself and waved his hands in panic.

As expected, nobody was particularly keen on getting a load of vomit on themselves, so everyone instinctively jumped away. The blade left his throat just in time as Stiles spewed his dinner on the floor. That must have been what Derek was waiting for. Stiles hadn't even finished retching when he was tackled down landing on top of his captor. The knife flew into the hall and Stiles was unceremoniously pushed out of the way as Derek's (no longer bound) fists found its target. The con didn't even put much of a fight, the third hit knocked him out but the punches never stopped.

As Stiles was crawling away one of the sidekicks tried to pull Derek off his boss and the next second he was hurled against the wall rendered unconscious. Two others were stunned into a breathless observation of Derek's revenge. The enraged Alpha was ruthless. The blunt pounding was accompanied by cracking sounds of the bones breaking and splashes of blood landing on Derek's face. It was a terrifying sight. Probably even more terrifying than being cut.

"Oy blyad'!" Stiles heard Mishka's voice coming from the hall and soon he saw the Russian trying to gently pry Derek away from the bloody mess under him. "Tikho, tikho, tikho. Vse, khvatit," he coaxed, catching his wrists. "He out."

Derek reluctantly let himself be dragged away, breathing heavily, fangs still out, and eyes a deep shade of red. Guards rushed inside the cell followed by a man in police uniform. He kneeled next to the beat down con and felt his pulse, then nodded at others and ordered to take him to the medical ward.

"Taking your sweet time," Derek snarled at him angrily.

The policeman ignored the snide remark and went inside the cell. He took the book lying on the table and extracted a small camera from it, and then another from the mattress on the bed and the third one from the corner. "Good job, Hale. I'll still need a statement from you though." Then he turned towards Stiles and examined his neck carefully. "You're good, it's nothing serious, but the doctor should take a look anyway in case you need stitches."

Stiles and Derek shared a brief look of relief and then Stiles was taken to the med ward while Derek followed the cop to give a statement.

* * *

xxx

Stiles's neck didn't need stitching. The nurse cleaned and disinfected the cuts and by the time she was applying the bandage, the adrenalin levels plummeted and Stiles started dozing off from exhaustion.

He was woken by the quiet voices a couple hours later. He opened his eyes and smiled when he saw his dad, Scott, and Isaac sitting by his bed.

"Hey guys," he rasped sleepily.

"Hey Stiles, how's prison?" Isaac chaffed.

God, how he missed those smiling faces. "One out of ten, would not recommend."

"What's the one for?"

"Food is not as bad as I expected," Stiles replied grinning, then he noticed the neighbor on the bed next to him. He recognized the guy by the tattoos on his head, his face was a bruised swollen mess. He had an IV and was intubated since his nose was... hard to find. "How is he?"

"Alive. Unfortunately," Scott said with palpable disdain.

"Or thankfully," Isaac disagreed. "Depending on the point of view."

Stiles knew he was talking about Derek. He doubted there would have been legal consequences even if Derek did kill him, given the extenuating circumstances, but he was glad Derek wouldn't have to live with such a burden. But damn was he brutal. Stiles shuddered at the memory.

"There were cameras in Derek's cell," he noted, looking at his dad.

"Yes. Peter was positive that it was only a matter of time before they tried to take Derek out. The prosecutor in Baker is an old friend of mine. I went to him as soon as I heard about your arrest and he said that it would be easier to reopen your case if Derek managed to get video evidence."

"So Derek planned for the ambush," Stiles muttered, biting his lip.

"He might have even provoked it. Of course, now that Douglas cracked, we have enough to get you out regardless. But it got us extra evidence on Palmer and it can still come in handy for your BRP evaluation. This lowlife -" he nodded at his neighbor "- is going to get transferred to the high-security penitentiary, much to the relief of the Baker's prison warden."

Stiles touched his bandaged throat. "You're welcome," he sneered at the ceiling. Even though his own input was hardly helpful…One could even call it detrimental. But well, details.

The Sheriff petted his hair affectionately. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

"The trouble always finds me." Stiles gave him an innocent look. "So how did our plan go?"

"Liam brought the flash drive to Deucalion as planned. The prosecutor told me that it would be a good idea to get the FBI involved, so I called Agent McCall, and then it was out of our hands. It worked, they got enough on Douglas and squeezed him, he cut a deal and gave them everyone else - Deucalion, Palmer, the CEO of Blast Pharmaceuticals and a couple others."

"What kind of a deal?" Stiles asked, frowning. He never particularly liked Scott's dad, but he agreed that in this case involving the FBI was probably the right call.

His dad scratched the back of his head with a grimace. "He became a witness."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"I know," the Sheriff agreed placatingly. "But this is not all bad. He will testify in court, so Liam won't have to."

"He should be rotting in jail along with the rest of them, not sunbathing his ass on the Bahamas in the witness protection program," Stiles fumed, shaking his head. "Liam is not going with him, is he?"

"I actually don't know. I haven't seen the kid since he was taken by the CPS."

Stiles sighed heavily, his good mood taking a dive. He knew that overall it was a positive outcome. The legal system was far from perfect and putting away a criminal organization and a corrupt high ranked politician far outweighed punishing a common government official, but Stiles still felt cheated. Douglas might have been less important in the grand scheme of things, but he was the one Stiles had a personal beef with because of Liam, the public caning, and the prison (since Stiles had no doubt Douglas had his hand in their prompt arrest).

"Oh well, there's hope Deucalion will get even," he grumbled, crossing arms on his chest.

The Sheriff grew serious. "That is actually a real possibility and that's why it's good that Liam won't have to testify."

His dad had a point. Stiles was still not happy about it, but he felt at least somewhat mollified.

"Cheer up, you are getting out tomorrow. They said you don't have to go back to the cell and can stay here overnight. In the morning you just sign some papers and you are good to go. I have to get back to Beacon Hills, my actual work piled up and is waiting for me. Will you be ok here?"

"Sure dad," Stiles held up his hands, feeling like a toddler asking for a hug, but he didn't care. He had just spent a week in a prison cell and almost got his throat cut by a dangerous convict. He was entitled to get a hug. His father enveloped him in a tight embrace. "Thank you. For everything."

The man planted a kiss on his forehead. "Just try not to give me any more grey hair for at least … a week."

"I'll do my best," Stiles grinned back at him. "Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

xxx

After giving his statement to the police and signing the release papers, Stiles finally went to get his stuff. The loud shouting coming from the waiting room gave him a pause. He recognized Derek's and Peter's voices and from the bits that he overhead he was pretty sure he knew what the two were fighting about.

"I asked you for one fucking thing!" Derek snarled, eyes blazing angrily.

Peter was leaning against the wall with an irritated expression on his face. "I was paying the guy 3k a day, what more do you want me to do?!" he snapped, shaking his head, then he noticed Stiles and pointed at him, "There he is, alive and well. Give me a fucking break."

Stiles entered the room feeling the tension in the air. Still, he was so happy to see Derek, he went straight for a hug. A sharp "Don't" froze him in place before he could even touch him. Deflated at such a cold welcome, he glanced at Peter for help, and as expected the other Alpha was not particularly happy with him either.

"Alright. You are mad at me," he stated the obvious.

Derek turned to glare at him. "I'm not mad, I'm _furious_! I'm so angry I could whip you right here!"

Peter pursed his lips in a comical "oh shit" expression and Stiles' cheeks flamed with embarrassment. He felt as if he had been slapped. They've been to prison, they haven't seen each other for a week, they've almost got gutted by a bunch of convicts, and this was the first thing Derek said to him? Not only was it hurtful but also quite humiliating to be threatened this way in front of Peter.

"What is wrong with you?!"

Derek refused to look at him. "You should go stay with your dad or Scott or.."

"No," Stiles cut him off, refusing to be pushed away. "_You_ should get over yourself! It's over and we are going home. Together."

Derek grumbled something unintelligible and went to the exit. Stiles nodded at Peter and then followed his boyfriend outside.

...

The drive home was a silent affair. The cab driver was not a chatty fellow, which was appreciated by all the parties involved. Derek was brooding on the other side of the backseat refusing to even look in Stiles's direction and Stiles was trying not to feel too hurt by the cold treatment and come up with something to break the ice.

"How's your neck?" Derek asked him when they got into the elevator.

"I could use some of your Alphadvil," Stiles replied with a hint of a smile. (Alpha Advil = Alphadvil, get it?) Derek did get it. He palmed Stiles's neck without making eye contact and took away what little sting there was. Truth be told, Stiles didn't need any painkillers since it didn't hurt any worse than a couple of Ruby's scratches would. He just wanted Derek to touch him. Show him that he still cared.

Unfortunately, the brief touch was all there was. Derek went straight for the shower and then without a word beelined to his room and closed the door firmly behind him. Stiles thought about following him but then decided to give Derek some space and went for a shower himself.

An hour passed and Stiles was starting to feel ridiculous. He was free, he was home, he could do anything he wanted… If Derek wanted to be difficult, that was his problem right?

Wrong.

Stiles sighed and went to the bedroom to force the fight he knew they were going to have, one way or the other. Just as he was about to knock, the door opened and Derek emerged, all dressed up, carrying his briefcase.

"Where are you going?" Stiles asked, surprised.

"Work."

_Come again?_

"You are kidding, right? We just got out of prison!"

"Your point being?"

Yup. He was still mad. And Stiles hated it. "How long are you going to be sulking?"

Derek's eyes flashed with anger, then his gaze landed on Stiles's bandaged throat and he clenched his fists, his irises returning to normal. "I don't know."

And he was gone.

* * *

xxx

This was not how Stiles imagined he would spend his first day of freedom. He cleaned the apartment, changed the bedsheets, did the laundry, went to get Ruby from Kira's, stayed to chat about the horrors of prison life, promised to be "the bestest" Beta in the Program from now on, and then with nothing better to do returned to the empty apartment.

Oh joy.

He kinda missed Mishka. He never got to say goodbye. All in all the Russian was not a bad guy, though Stiles didn't have balls to ask him why he was in prison, figuring he was safer not knowing. Still, even locked in a tiny cell with a silent companion he felt less lonely than this...

Derek came home a few hours later, just as Stiles started to doze off in front of the TV.

"How was work?" Stiles asked conversationally, hoping the Alpha was in a better mood now.

"Fine," came a not particularly promising reply.

"There's pizza," he tried again.

"I already ate."

Yup. Derek didn't get over it. But Stiles refused to let this passive-aggressive bullshit go on any longer. He followed Derek to the bedroom determined to force the confrontation, but the Alpha blocked him in the doorway.

"Go to your room Stiles. I'm not dealing with you right now."

The door was shut in his face and Stiles has had enough. He stormed to his room, grabbed a leather belt he wore on occasion, and flounced back into Derek's bedroom.

"Fucking do it then!" he yelled, throwing the belt at him.

Derek caught the belt and tossed it on the bed, the surprise on his face quickly replaced with irritation. "Stop with the drama, Stilinski!"

"Me?! YOU are the one who is pissed over nothing!"

"Nothing? NOTHING?!" Derek's eyes turned crimson as he grabbed the belt again and pointed it at Stiles. "Perhaps I should use it after all!"

"Right! Go on!" Stiles taunted angrily. "We have been to prison, I haven't seen you for a week. I was scared shitless the whole time. And now we are out. It's all over. We won. All the bad guys will get what's coming to them… and all YOU can think about is how much you want to whip me?! Well, fucking do it then, asshole!" Stiles shouted, all but stomping his foot in anger.

"Do NOT twist it! You know perfectly well why I'm mad!" Derek yelled back.

"Oh right, you expected me to just sit quietly in my cell while they kill you?!"

"I expected you to do as you are told!"

"I couldn't just…"

"Oh yes, you could!" Derek thundered. "You completely disregarded the effort everyone put to keep you safe and rushed heedlessly into action!"

"You are making it as if I WANTED to put myself in danger! I needed to warn you. If I knew that this was all staged I wouldn't meddle, but you never bothered telling me!"

"Oh I'm sorry," Derek snapped, his sarcasm rivaling Peter's at his best. "I was too busy staying alive to come up with a plan on how to inconspicuously deliver a message to my boyfriend who was safely tucked away in the cell. How the fuck did you even get out?!"

"I faked a panic attack."

Derek slapped his forehead in an intense facepalm. "You gotta be fucking kidding me…"

"What?"

"Peter was paying the guy crazy money for every day he keeps you alive. And you got over the language barrier and did the only thing that could endanger his income!"

"I did it to save you…" Stiles muttered sullenly.

"I almost _killed_ a guy because of you… You have no idea…" his voice cracked with a sharp air intake and Derek pressed a fist against his mouth, his eyes getting glassy as he turned away from Stiles.

Stiles felt his insides tore seeing Derek this upset. He couldn't bear it. He touched Derek's arm and the Alpha grabbed him into a fierce hug.

"Der… you are crushing me," Stiles croaked.

"I want to fucking throttle you," Derek growled, holding him tightly.

"I'm sorry."

"You will be. Once I'm done with you, you won't sit for a month."

Somehow the threat didn't scare him, even though it probably should since Derek has never been as angry with him as he was right now. But threats while hugging him this tightly just couldn't yield the same effect.

"Ok. Just don't be mad at me."

Derek put him back at an arms-length, eyes still glowing with a reddish undertone. "I was watching them cut your throat, and couldn't do anything! How can I not be mad?!"

"I'm sorry. But how do you think I felt when I heard they were gonna kill you?"

"Stilinski, don't go comparing us! Besides, I told you it was likely that they were gonna try to off me in prison!"

"So what? I don't have to worry?"

"As long as you stay put, you can worry all you like!"

"That's not fair!"

"No Stiles, not fair is watching your loved one with a knife against his throat!"

"Loved one?" The endearment felt like a soft blanket soothing his wounds and warming him up after a day of cold treatment.

"Don't change the topic… and stop grinning for fucks sake I'm still mad at you!"

"Sorry." Stiles attempted to sober his expression.

There was a pause and Derek's frown finally softened, his irises losing the angry crimson shade. "I thought I'm going to lose you too," he said quietly, looking into Stiles' eyes with a vulnerability that was so uncharacteristic for the proud Alpha.

"I'm sorry, Derek," Stiles apologized again, reaching out to touch Derek's face. "But it all turned out well. I'm ok, you're ok, it's over." He pulled him in and they held foreheads against each other. Stiles felt the knot in his stomach finally untangle and he was able to breathe easily again. They were going to be ok.

They stayed like this for a moment, the tension dissipating, replaced with a calm content feeling. Then Derek cleared his throat and pulled away. "Alright, let's get it over with."

"Wait, I thought we were having a moment!"

"Yes, and now my hand needs to have a moment with your butt."

"No, it doesn't!"

"Stiles. Do you honestly believe you don't deserve to be punished?" Derek looked at him seriously.

Stiles bit his lip. He was sure that for once he could totally talk his way out of this one. Derek wouldn't punish him if Stiles insisted that there was no other option. He tried to send over the Russian and it didn't work. Anyone else would have acted the same way in his situation. Derek included.

Nevertheless, Stiles figured that whatever could clear the air between them right now, he was up for it. Sure, in the perfect world a spanking was supposed to primarily benefit the one being punished - a cathartic experience to release the pent up emotions and guilt, at the same time serving as a corrective measure and a deterrent for future behavior - but right now it felt like Derek needed this to be done more than Stiles did. He had lost so much in his life already. He must have been scared that another person would be taken from him while all he could do was kneel there watching it happen. He needed to feel in control again. And Stiles decided that a sore butt was a small price to pay to get his boyfriend back his equilibrium.

Besides… Stiles _was_ feeling guilty. Even though his choices felt correct at the time, they backfired and endangered both him and Derek. And he never wanted to see Derek lose it this way again.

"No," Stiles said quietly, his cheeks reddening because he just agreed that he _deserved_ to be spanked. No matter how many times Derek punished him, the embarrassment was always there. Stiles never understood how other Betas in the Program could talk about their discipline so freely. To him, the whole experience was embarrassing AF.

Derek nodded and sat on the bed. Stiles didn't wait for the instructions he knew were coming, he pulled his pants down and draped himself over Derek's left thigh, eager to get the unpleasant part out of the way as soon as possible.

His compliance was not rewarded in any way. Derek still pulled his boxers down and didn't hold back in raining hell on his ass.

It hurt. Well, it always hurt, but this time Stiles was sure that he will need to regrow new skin. Just in case you were wondering how serious Derek was about Stiles never sitting again. Well... very. Very fucking serious. The pain was building up to a horrible throbbing inferno, but then for whatever reason started becoming more manageable. The swats were still hard and uncompromising, but Stiles started zoning out, feeling kinda floaty. He was sure he was still whimpering at every punishing blow, but it just wasn't as horrible anymore.

Stiles was so engrossed in what he assumed was the notorious subspace, he didn't even realize he started getting hard. Fuck. That was certainly not the response he should be having, especially since Derek was still upset with him. There was nothing even remotely sexual about this and yet his dick decided he didn't care. The fact that Derek started scolding him throwing around words like irresponsible, reckless, naughty, disobedient, etc, didn't help it whatsoever.

Stiles didn't really listen to him, too focused on losing his erection before Derek noticed it, but the more he tried the harder he got. "I'm sorry," he whined tearfully, starting to slowly crawl away from Derek's lap. He expected to be pulled back and scolded some more, but the spanking actually stopped. Derek probably thought that Stiles couldn't take it anymore, which yeah... wasn't exactly the case.

Derek's thigh slid from under him, as the Alpha got off the bed. Derek kept his hand on the small of Stiles' back, applying gentle pressure and preventing him from getting up. Stiles didn't have time to question it, because the next second he heard the telltale sound of the metallic clasp and then the belt wheezing through the air and landing smartly on his poor ass.

... _Motherfucking OW!_

Stiles didn't actually expect Derek to use the belt when he threw it in his face. He didn't bother restraining his yelps when four more equally scorching blows _kissed_ (well more like _sliced_) his butt.

Fuck, that _hurt_. He will definitely feel that well into tomorrow. This was undoubtedly the hardest spanking Derek has ever given him and yet, by some miracle, it actually didn't completely kill off his hardon. It dwindled significantly from the pain, but once it was over and Derek was all over him, soothing and caring, it was back to full flagging.

"It's ok, baby. I got you, it's over. You're ok," Derek murmured, petting him gently and kissing the back of his head while Stiles just breathed heavily, happy for it to be over. "You're… not crying," Derek noted surprised.

"I'm about to, it hurt like _hell_," Stiles groused, rubbing his butt with a wince. He did tear up a bit, but he was nowhere near the sobbing mess Derek probably expected him to be.

The Alpha looked confused. "You always cried when I punished you."

"You think I cry from pain?"

"No, you cry from feeling sorry for yourself."

"Ok that too, but mostly from guilt."

Derek cast him an annoyed look. "Are you saying you don't feel guilty? But you apologized!"

"And I _am_ sorry for how it turned out."

"But not for leaving your cell."

Stiles turned to him with a serious expression on his face. "I'll never be sorry for trying to do my best to save you. I would never forgive myself if they killed you and I did nothing."

Derek threw his hands in the air. "You're fucking impossible! You're … hard?" The irritation was replaced with confusion as his eyes traveled down to Stiles' crotch.

_Oops._

"Uhm, yeah…"

"What?! Were you _enjoying_ this?" Derek exclaimed, bewildered.

Stiles flushed. "No! It's just that uhm... you called me naughty and disobedient… and I haven't jerked off in a week!" It sounded like a poor excuse but Stiles didn't have a better one.

"I have no words!"

"Well don't get mad now! You already spanked me!"

"Much good did it do!"

"It still hurt," Stiles offered, rubbing his butt with a pout.

"Yes, your hardon looks particularly well-disciplined - just _drenched _with remorse!" The Alpha growled fuming. He grabbed Stiles' wrists and pinned them above his head, straddling him with a sadistic look on his face. "Well, you wanted to try edging? I'll show you edging. I'll fucking torture you the entire night and come morning I still won't let you come! We'll see how you enjoy _that!"_

Something between a moan and a whimper escaped Stiles's lips, as his cock twitched with excitement. He couldn't help it, coming from Derek the threat just sounded so hot. He loved when the Alpha got all domineering.

Derek shook his head, but it was obvious he had a hard time clinging to his anger. "How the hell did I manage to fall in love with a wilful know-it-all Beta?!"

"I suppose the same way I managed to fall in love with a conceited grumpy Alphahole," Stiles replied evenly.

"Best thing to ever happen to you, huh?"

There was just no end to Derek's arrogance. But Stiles loved him anyway. "Yeah."

Derek finally pressed his lips against Stiles's in a hungry kiss that was a long time coming. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

_TBC_

_*happy squeals*_

_Almost done, one more to go^^_

_Translation:_

Oy blyad'! - Oh shit!

Tikho, tikho, tikho. Vse, khvatit - Easy, easy, easy. It's enough.


	27. Ever after

_Author's note: Alright. Here we go. Last chapter! Thank you for all the lovely feedback!_

_I hope you enjoy the conclusion. (be ready to brush your teeth - this is tooth-rotting)_

* * *

Stiles checked his phone for the missed calls or messages and frowned. It's been 3 days since they got out of prison and he was yet to get in contact with Liam. Sure the kid might have been busy with settling in the residential treatment center, or whatever that facility they stuck him in was called, but Stiles didn't expect the kid to go completely awol.

"What is it?" Derek asked when Stiles let out a particularly heavy sigh.

"It's Liam. I can't seem to get a hold of him. I left him several messages and called him a couple times, but he is yet to call back."

"He is a teenager. How fast are you getting back to your dad, hm?"

"Whoa! Hold it right there, you are not lecturing _me_ right now." That was just like Derek to use an opportunity and go full _Responsible Alpha_ on him. "You are supposed to be empathizing with me because the kid is ghosting me and that's not nice."

Derek chuckled and wrapped his hand around Stiles's shoulders pulling him closer. "Speaking of Liam, there's something I wanted to discuss with you."

Stiles guessed the direction of the conversation even before Derek said anything. It was on his mind ever since Peter mentioned CPS taking the boy away.

"I asked Kira what are the chances for me to get custody over the kid while we are still a part of the BRP and she told me - not big. At least not a full-time thing. But she said that we could probably get one-two overnight stays a week and then slowly increase it if all goes well. She promised to help, but I wanted to make sure it's something you would want, first."

Stiles threw his hands around Derek's neck in a strangulating hug. "Are you kidding, of course I want this! And I'm sure Liam wants this too. Oh, and you already spoke to… did I tell you how much I love you?"

"Are you high on heroin again?"

Stiles laughed, too happy to mind the teasing. "Having a déjà vu?"

"Kinda. Just need to invite your dad over so that you can tell him all about the kinky shit you are into and the picture will be complete."

"Stop ruining my moment!"

"My apologies," Derek said, not sounding apologetic in the least. He gently patted Stiles on the butt prompting him to stand up. "Let's go break the news to the kid."

...

"Liam is not feeling well, sorry." A young caretaker Omega gave them an apologetic shrug, which suggested that the boy simply refused to come out to see them.

"Is he ok?" Stiles asked, picking up on the underlying message.

"He is fine, I promise. A bit moody, but nothing we can't handle," she tried to reassure him.

But Derek was far from reassured. "And how exactly _do_ you handle moodiness?" he snapped, his tone just on this side of polite.

The lady gave him a cold look. "With care and patience, Mr. Hale," she said, crossing her arms on the chest, clearly offended at the notion that they would mistreat their wards.

"Sorry. It's just that the kid has been through a lot," Stiles offered as an excuse for Derek's less than friendly behavior.

Her face softened. "I know. And he is working on his issues with a very good therapist. But these things take time. You can always try again later." She gave them a sympathetic smile and then showed them out.

* * *

xxx

A week passed and they still haven't heard from Liam. Stiles was starting to get worried. He was slowly running out of excuses and explanations for this behavior. Yes, the kid was forced to betray his uncle and ultimately lost the only living relative he had. But surely he understood that it was the right thing to do. He never appeared to be against their plan. He was a willing participant in all of it and tried to help as much as possible.

Did something bad happen while they were in prison? According to his dad, Liam's part went down smoothly, but he only knew what the kid told him, right? Either way, they won't know for sure till they saw him, and the boy refused to get in contact.

Stiles realized that he has been staring blankly at the microscope while deep in thought for a couple minutes now. However before he could get back to work, the door to the cleanroom opened and Derek's head popped in.

"Mask!" Stiles barked, stopping the Alpha from entering.

Derek disappeared again and came back a minute later wearing a mask.

"Glasses, gloves! Come on, dude, shouldn't you know the dress code in your own company lab?" Stiles berated the Alpha, which prompted more than one raised eyebrow.

Derek cast him an annoyed look. "Then come here, smartass."

"I'm busy," Stiles said unabashedly, returning his focus to the microscope.

_What?_ He _was_ busy. And ok, maybe he enjoyed provoking the big boss a bit too much.

There were a couple of shocked gasps heard across the lab. Stiles looked up from the specimen he was testing to see Derek silently raise one finger at him. When it didn't spur Stiles into action a second finger joined the first and then a third.

"Ok, ok, coming," Stiles grumbled, standing up and rolling his eyes demonstratively.

When the door closed behind him, Derek shook his head with a tsking sound. "What happened to keeping a low profile at work?" Despite the fact that Stiles quite literally just sassed him in a very public setting, the Alpha didn't appear the least bit angry, but rather amused.

"I've been cuffed and escorted out of here by the police. My reputation can't get much worse than that."

"Are you saying that dating me is not as bad as getting arrested for drugs? Cause that sounds strangely offensive."

Stiles laughed at Derek's pretend pout and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "So what is it? I really am kinda busy right now."

The Alpha grew serious again. "I called Mrs. Waters."

"Who?"

"The principal in Liam's school."

"Oh. The one, that was into you," Stiles remembered.

"Yes. I asked her to call him in her office, so we could talk."

"And she agreed?"

"Of course." Derek gave him a toothy grin. "She is 'into me'."

_Of course._

"Ok, let me see if I can delegate my work." Stiles opened the door and noticed the money being shuffled around and Jessica looking all smug. "Jess, could you finish this up, please? Matthews wanted it done by tomorrow."

"Sure thing, babycakes. Anything for you since you just earned me two hundred bucks," the redhead called, waving the banknotes at him.

"Uhm, thanks," he said, closing the door with a frown.

"What was that?"

Stiles rubbed his forehead grimacing. "I think they were betting on us being together." Jess and Jen often teased him about the Hot Hale, but Stiles never acknowledged that there was anything between them. "I guess we weren't all that subtle after all," he said with a shrug.

Derek took his hand as the two made their way to the parking lot, neither caring if anyone saw them like this.

* * *

xxx

Mrs. Waters greeted them in front of the office, informing them that Liam was waiting inside. She eyefucked Derek just like she did last time, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously. Derek smiled back at her and for once Stiles didn't feel the least bit jealous. He had no doubt about Derek's feelings towards him and he knew that it was in their best interest to stay in her good graces for Liam's sake.

They opened the door and… well _hello, Alpha._

Liam was sitting on the chair, pulling at the button of his shirt with a bored expression on his face. A face that matured a lot since Stiles last saw him. It had been just two and a half weeks but Liam gained at least five inches in height and 10 pounds in muscle, turning him from a kid into a respectable teenage Alpha.

"Wow," Stiles said instead of a greeting.

Liam's cheeks pinked at that and he smiled sheepishly. He stood up but didn't attempt to approach them, as if there was an invisible wall between them. "Hey, guys."

Even his voice matured. Sure he was still a 13-year-old… no, actually, 14-year-old boy, but the air of dominance surrounding him made him appear older than what Stiles was used to.

"How are you?" Stiles asked, hoping to break the ice.

The kid shrugged, hiding his hands in the pockets. "I'm fine."

Stiles waited for Liam to say something, but that was it. He studied the rug pattern, brushing his shoe against the fabric, looking uncomfortable. Derek didn't say anything either and the silence stretched between them till Stiles couldn't take it any longer.

"Hey Stiles, how was prison?" he said, mimicking Liam's voice. "I was so worried about you guys, but I had a _very_ good reason why I never replied to your calls. And that reason _is_…" Stiles gave him a pointed look, waiting for the kid to fess up.

Liam sighed. "Of course I was worried, but look... We don't have to do this anymore."

Stiles didn't like the sound of that. At all. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm fine now. I'm taken care of, I go to therapy, I'm an Alpha. You don't have to _save_ me anymore."

Liam wasn't entirely off track, since their relationship was built on the fact that Stiles wanted to help him out of the bad situation, without even knowing what it was. But surely over the course of those few months that they knew each other, it became more than that?

"_Okaay,_" Stiles drawled, frowning. "And that means that we can't see you or what?"

"You can, I just don't see why you would want to."

Stiles felt like slapping some sense into the obstinate teen but he reigned it in. "We came to see you three times and you refused to come out!"

"Cause I didn't want to put you in that position."

"What position?" Stiles' temper was starting to get the best of him.

"To feel sorry for me. Like I'm some needy orphan… I didn't want you to feel pressured, not that you would, but... I mean…"

"How do you feel about spending tomorrow night at our place?" Derek interrupted his rant.

Liam cast him a sad look. "I'd love to but I can't. I'm on a tight schedule. Curfew and all."

"I know, but the CPS agreed to two days a week for starters. If it goes well, it will be increased to three, four, five... and then a smooth transition to full custody once the BRP is over. If it is something you want, of course."

Liam's gaze darted between Stiles and Derek a couple times, then he started blinking rapidly but it was a lost battle. He hid his face in his hands and Stiles didn't wait for further invitation, breaking down the invisible barrier and enveloping the teen (who was almost the same height as Stiles now) in a tight embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, chuckling at the kid's emotional reaction, though he wasn't far from weeping himself.

Liam just nodded, unable to form a coherent answer. Derek joined them in a group hug, landing a kiss to the top of Liam's head and then doing the same with Stiles'.

"Don't get too happy. You are totally grounded for ghosting me," Stiles said, prompting a surprised look from both Alphas since Stiles was never the one to issue discipline measures before. He always tried to get the kid out of trouble, leaving Derek to play the bad guy.

And yeah… perhaps that didn't change after all, since everyone conveniently forgot about the grounding the moment Liam set foot in the apartment and Stiles loaded him with junk food and sweets and then spent the entire evening playing Fortnite with him. But at that point, no one really cared.

* * *

xxx

**_One month later_**

Stiles almost choked on his coffee when he saw the newspaper Jennifer brought to lunch with her. There was a picture of Palmer in handcuffs and a flashy headline saying, "The Secretary of Health sentenced to 25 years for felony murder." Stiles grabbed the newspaper from Jen's hands and sprinted to the 8th floor, ignoring the protests heard behind him.

"Is he in?" he asked Angela, trying to catch his breath as the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"No, he is in the conference room. But wait, Stiles, he has a…"

Stiles burst into the room excitedly. "Derek, look at this! I knew the fucker would rot in hell, but this is better! He is-"

"_Stiles!_"

"No, you just look at him! He goes away for 25 years! Serves him right-"

"Stiles? Board meeting? Hello?"

Stiles glanced around, finally taking in his surroundings. "Oh." The men sitting at the long table watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement, and a couple with outright indignation. "Well, this is important," Stiles said, losing some of his confidence.

"I'm sure it can wait," Derek replied, not unkindly, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Yeah, totally," Stiles nodded, playing it cool. "You guys continue with... whatever it is that you were doing." Hands gesticulating wildly, he slowly backed away from the table.

_So fucking smooth, Stiles._

Derek went back into business mode, ready to continue with the meeting, but Stiles decided that since he was already here, he might as well live up to his Polish name. "Sorry, one more thing." He strolled back and pulled the surprised Alpha in for a kiss. Tongue and all.

Derek's flushed face was priceless.

"This couldn't wait," Stiles said cheekily, ignoring the scandalized gasps from the rest of the room. He was well aware that he was gonna pay for that little mischief later on... and he had no doubt that he will love every second of it.

* * *

xxx

**_Somewhere around that time_**

"Where are you going?" Derek asked Liam when the teen tried to subtly sneak out one sunny Sunday afternoon.

"To see Emma."

"Emma? The Omega chick you like?" Stiles asked and then quickly bit his tongue seeing Liam's glare, but it was too late. The rest of the gang jumped in on it right away.

"Liiiam has a giiirlfrieeend," Isaac teased the blushing teen.

"Where are you taking her?" Scott asked.

"I don't know yet."

Derek reached for his wallet. "Do you need money?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Liam said, his eyes darting towards the door. One could tell, the kid just wanted to vanish from there, but didn't dare to walk out on Derek.

"Young people don't need money to have fun, you know?" Isaac cackled, making Liam blush even further and Derek frown.

"You better not be having _that_ type of fun," he growled, ready to go in full lecture mode.

"Stop it, I'm sure he knows…" Stiles tried to save kid some face, then turned to him to make sure, "You _do know,_ right?"

"Jesus! Stiles!" Liam exclaimed, going completely crimson. "Are you serious right now? The sounds coming from your bedroom would put the whole Pornhub to shame and you want to give me the birds and the bees talk?!"

"The birds and the bees actually don't apply to these two," Isaac grinned, enjoying Liam's discomfiture.

"You better not get her pregnant," Derek growled again, relapsing into "dad mode".

The teenager groaned, as if in pain. "God! Everyone just stop! We are going skating to the park, I'll show her some tricks, teach her the easy ones, maybe hold her hand if she lets me. And if I get lucky I might even steal a kiss before the end of the day. Which wouldn't even be my first, mind you. And that's it! So piss off!"

The slamming of the front door was followed by a second of silence. Normally it was not something Derek would tolerate, but right now he just snickered at Isaac, taking sadistic pleasure from riling the young Alpha up.

"You guys are the worst," Scott said, shaking his head, as the rest of them grinned gleefully.

* * *

xxx

**_And another week or two later_**

Good weather always filled the outdoor area of the UC Baker campus with students lying around on the grass pretending to study. No one was pretending to study now though, as all the eyes were turned to the flashy looking BMW i8 in gorgeous matt black color.

Stiles didn't notice it right away, too busy discussing the plans for the upcoming night with Scott. His friend finally passed all his remaining exams and renegotiated a lighter schedule for the upcoming year, thus proving Derek right that he was fully capable of sorting out his problems without Stiles' interference. And yeah, he was also moving in with Isaac, which certainly helped the finances.

With Stiles turning 21 a week ago and Scott successfully finishing the semester, they decided to go for a short camping trip, just the two of them. It's been a while since they spent time together, what with all the changes and newfound relationships, and they both missed it. That's why they decided that for once, the boyfriends will remain at home and they will go camping, fishing, and drinking, as they used to during their teenage years.

"Is that Derek?" Scott asked nodding towards the sports car.

And yeah. It totally was. Stiles had to restrain himself not to break into an excited sprint and play it cool.

"Now _this_ is what I'm talking about!" he told Derek, eyeing the car with appreciation. "Where did you get this baby?"

Derek smirked at him. "I'm a _millionaire_, remember?"

That was rather easy to forget with Derek's tame (or as Peter rightfully called it - boring) tastes.

"You bought it?"

"A couple years ago actually. But I kept her in Peter's garage and we weren't exactly on speaking terms. And now I don't need to lay low anymore, so..." he shrugged smiling.

Stiles petted the hood with a little moan. "Oh, I want to make love to her."

Derek chuckled. "Too bad I don't share, Stilinski. But if you promise to keep it in your pants…" he tossed Stiles the keys, "Enjoy your camping trip."

Stiles stared at the car keys in his hands for a second and then jumped on Derek, wrapping his legs around the Alpha's hips and attacking his mouth. "You are officially the best boyfriend ever!"

"Agreed."

Stiles rolled his eyes and kissed him again.

"Just remember not to overdo it with the booze. We are still going to your dad's for dinner, regardless of how hungover you are."

"Yes, moooom."

"I'm serious. Scott's in charge."

"No, he is not!" The hell would sooner freeze over before Stiles let his best friend boss him around.

Derek didn't care. "Watch over him for me, will you?" he asked, turning to Scott.

His friend nodded and Stiles decided to let it go. If Derek needed to think that there was an Alpha in charge, so that he could sleep better at night, then Stiles will graciously let him have this illusion.

* * *

xxx

**_Another month later_**

Stiles mindlessly played around with his pen as he read through the BRP release papers. It was probably the first time he was happy to be in Kira's office at the BRP headquarters. He didn't really care much for the boring legalities, but since Derek was running late, he had nothing better to do anyway.

The last months of the Program went without incident. They stuck to the regimen of work, school, culture and sport activities, visited the Saturday group sessions, and followed Kira's directions to a T.

They passed the evaluation with flying colors and the only thing left was to sign a couple papers and they were free! And truth be told, Stiles couldn't wait to be out of there. Yes, the Program did ultimately turn his life for the better - he was not dealing anymore, he had a stable job, a boyfriend he loved to bits and a teenage Alpha, who found his way into their hearts and became a part of the family. Still, he was all too happy to be rid of this BRP burden and be his own man again.

Stiles's eyes fell on the divorce papers lying underneath. He almost forgot about that part. As much as he was opposed to getting married at the age of 20 to a random asshole, he found that being married to Derek was not exactly a hardship. They rarely dwelled on their legal status, referring to each other as boyfriends, and yet both wore their spousal pendants right there in the open. Stiles never gave it much thought, but now looking at the divorce papers, he realized that he actually liked being married.

But then he reached the last page and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Derek's signature there. The sudden feeling of hurt was suffocating. Stiles dropped the pen, staring at the signed paper breathlessly.

_He just signed it. Just like that. _Without saying a word about it to Stiles. It wasn't even a hint… it was an in-your-face blatant good-fucking-bye. Derek's words about this not being permanent echoed in Stiles' head.

Stiles tried to remember if there was something he could be missing for Derek to so suddenly end things with him. And yes, he did catch Derek quickly closing his laptop just as Stiles entered the room a couple days ago, but he didn't put much weight to that, assuming it was something embarrassing, like kinky porn or something. Now Stiles wasn't so sure.

He was confident about Derek's feelings, and perhaps he got too comfortable? After all, it wasn't that long ago that he was sure that Derek was completely out of his league. He since grew out of this notion, and maybe he shouldn't have.

Even still, to break things off this way was too cruel even for Derek, so maybe it was just some kind of misunderstanding. The rational part of him decided to wait for Derek's explanation, but his emotions were clouding his judgment with an intense feeling of betrayal.

The door opened and Derek rushed in, apologizing for being late. He saw the divorce papers in Stiles' hand and his ghostly white heartbroken face, and groaned glaring at Kira. "My fucking God, Kira! You had one job!" he snapped, visibly annoyed.

Kira must have realized her blooper because her expression changed to a sheepish one. "Sorry."

This was certainly not the explanation Stiles was hoping for. "A job to make me sign the papers so that you won't have to deal with me anymore?" he demanded, clenching his fists to stop himself from flipping the table or doing something else worthy of an emotional Omega in a fit of hysterics.

"_Stiles._ Calm down and don't get upset."

"You're kidding, right? You just signed divorce papers without as much as saying a word to me and I'm not supposed to be upset?"

Derek grimaced and turned to Kira. "Yukimura, leave us."

"This is my office…"

"GET. THE FUCK. OUT!" Derek boomed and the girl fled from there before anyone could blink. Derek took out his cell and quickly typed something.

Stiles was infuriated. They were in the middle of a fight, possibly a break-up and Derek was texting?! "What, am I holding you from some important meeting with my stupid…"

"Stiles, _shut up_ and _listen_."

The stern command silenced Stiles into compliance. He folded his arms on the chest and scowled at the Alpha.

"We are NOT breaking up. I want to be with you and I know that you want to be with me too. This is NOT what this is about, alright?" Derek said firmly, looking Stiles straight in the eyes. "This is just a reset. Something to have us going on without having the relationship being coerced by the circumstances."

Ok, this didn't sound as bad as what it originally seemed, but Stiles was still angry. Not like Derek couldn't speak to him about it beforehand.

"And why don't I have any say in this?"

"You do, you can choose not to sign these. Or sign and dump me. Though I really hope you won't, cause…" Derek threw his hands in the air helplessly, "I love you."

"You have a fine way of expressing it."

"This is not how this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a mutual decision after a thorough discussion."

_You don't say. _

"Then why is your signature already there?" Stiles snapped, pointing at the paper.

Derek huffed in frustration. "Cause she dropped it off at my work for… and I signed it without thinking. But then I realized that you could get upset so I called her not to give you the papers before I got here so that I could explain my position on this. She fucked up."

Sure, it was convenient for Derek to blame his own thoughtlessness on Kira, but that explanation was enough to diffuse the bomb that was about to explode in Stiles's chest. "So… you just want to divorce but stay together?"

"Yes stay together, build a future, without it having anything to do with BRP and the forced marriage."

Stiles sighed, his anger somewhat mollified. "Ok…"

"Come here."

Stiles was still a bit mad but Derek's open embrace was too tempting to resist. The Alpha hugged him tightly as if trying to squeeze the remnants of anger out of him. And if that didn't work, then the heartfelt apology that followed certainly did.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to hurt you with this."

Stiles just hummed in response, breathing in his favorite "elevator smell".

"Forgive me?"

Stiles shook his head in defeat, "You know I can't say no when you are this irresistible."

"Good. Hold that thought," Derek said, grinning. "Come let's go out on the balcony for some fresh air." He grabbed Stiles around the waist and led him outside. The light breeze actually did make Stiles feel better, the cloudless sunny sky replacing the lingering bitter feelings with positive ones. But Derek seemed off, his palm sweaty and his breaths oddly shallow.

"You ok? You're trembling."

The Alpha rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Just nervous."

Derek? Nervous?

"Why?"

"You'll see."

And 2 minutes later Stiles did. At first, he didn't know what it was when the red semicircles started appearing above the treeline, and then he realized those were the hot-air balloons rising into the sky. There were like 50 of them, which made for an extraordinary, beautiful sight. Stiles' heart filled with joy when he saw that all of them had a "Marry me" written on them along with a short message:

**Marry me**  
I know I'm a dick.

**Marry me**  
I love you. Stay by my side forever.

**Marry me**  
My adorkable moron.

**Marry me**  
I promise to make you happy.

**Marry me**  
I'll even learn to cook. Maybe.

**Marry me**  
Ruby approves.

**Marry me**  
Liam tells you to say yes.

**Marry me**  
I got permission from your dad.

**Marry me**  
It will be too embarrassing if you say no.

**Marry me**  
Talk about big romantic gestures…

Stiles turned to Derek, eyes like saucers, but Derek was already on one knee beside him.

"I'm _so_ out of my depth here," the Alpha said with a nervous smile. "If you say 'no' now, I'll probably jump off the balcony… or throw _you_ off the balcony."

"What happened to a fresh start that is not coerced?" Stiles teased, basking in the moment.

"Yeah, that was before. Now I don't take no for an answer."

Stiles giggled. "You haven't even asked me yet."

"How about all that?" Derek gestured towards the balloons.

"I don't see a question there."

"Stilinski! My hand is gonna have a serious discussion with that sassbutt of yours if you continue down that path."

"And that's fine, but right now you are proposing. Focus Derek," Stiles replied, still giggling.

The humor helped with Derek's nerves and his lips twitched in a smile, the tension dissipating.

"I love you, Stiles, and I want to spend my life with you by my side. Will you marry me, baby?"

"Yes," Stiles nodded, bubbling with happiness. "Fuck yeah, I'll marry you."

**The End.**

* * *

_Thank you for reading!_


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